Ill 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


PUBLICATIONS  OF 
THE  HISPANIC  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 

No.  100 


GEORGE  EDMUND  STREET 

UNPUBLISHED   NOTES 

AND 

REPRINTED  PAPERS 


IVITH  AN  ESSAY 


BY 

GEORGIANA  GODDARD   KING 


QUAM  DILECTA  TABERNACULA  TUA   DOMINE  VIRTUTUM 


THE    HISPANIC   SOCIETY 

OF   AMERICA 

1916 


COPYRIGHT,     191  6,    BY 

THE    HISPANIC    SOCIETY 

OF   AMERICA 


>* 

a: 


CONTENTS 

1 1 

II.   Notes  of  a  Tour  in  Central  Italy  .    .  59 

III.   Notes  on  French  Churches 97 

Some    French   Churches  Chiefly   in  the 

Royal  Domain 99 

Architectural  Notes  in  France  ....  127 

Some  Churches  of  Le  Puy  en  Velay  and 

auvergne 201 

Appendix 253 

S.  MARY'S  Stone .  255 

Churches  in  Northern  Germany  ....  270 

Index 335 


323185 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Zamora  on  the  Douro Frontispiece 

PAGE 

George  Street  at  about  twenty-five 8 

In  Leon  Cathedral 29 

The  Old  Cathedral  of  Salamanca 46 

George  Edmund  Street  in  1877 57 

Master  Matthew's  Porch  at  Santiago 92 

The  Ambulatory,  Cathedral  of  Tours 127 

The  South  Transept  at  Soissons 162 

Nave  and  Transept,  Salamanca 196 

The  Templars'  Church  at  Segovia 227 

The  Western  Porch,  Saumur 249 

Rood-screen  in  Lubeck  Cathedral 271 

The  Great  S.  Martin,  Cologne 307 


GEORGE   EDMUND  STREET 


/  have  to  thank  Arthur  Edmund  Street,  Esq.,  of  London, 
for  the  generous  loan  of  some  notebooks  and  drawings,  and 
through  these  for  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  his  great 
father's  fine  temper  and  manly  art. 

Bryn  Mawr,  Epiphany,  1915 


I 

"  And  he  that  talked  with  me  had  a  golden  reed  to  measure  the  city, 
and  the  gates  thereof  and  the  walls  thereof.  And  the  city  lieth  four- 
square, and  the  length  is  as  large  as  the  breadth.  And  the  building 
of  the  wall  of  it  was  of  jasper;  every  several  gate  was  of  one  pearl." 


GEORGE  EDMUND  STREET 


I 

I  HAVE  written  the  memorial,  brief  enough  and  all 
inadequate,  of  a  man  who  died  more  than  thirty 
years  ago,  who  lived  a  Tory  and  a  High  Churchman, 
who  worked  to  revive  Gothic  architecture  in  England. 
His  books  are  out  of  print,  his  occasional  papers  and 
pamphlets  so  entirely  dispersed  and  forgotten  that  not 
even  a  bibliography  can  be  recovered.  His  name  goes 
unrecognized  in  general  talk;  his  party  is  wasted  to  a 
wraith  or  transformed  beyond  recognition;  his  Church 
is  menaced  by  Disestablishment  in  Wales,  and  Modern- 
ism on  the  Continent;  his  strong  and  sincere  architec- 
ture is  superseded  by  steel  and  concrete;  yet  no  man 
ever  less  fought  a  losing  fight,  no  figure  ever  less  evoked 
regret  or  toleration.  He  prospered,  but  his  personality 
made  that  a  kind  of  happy  consequence;  he  served  God, 
but  his  genius  made  that  a  kind  of  crowning  grace;  he 
was  an  Englishman,  but  was  that  in  no  mean  or  halfway 
fashion.  Rather,  George  Street  embodied  and  expressed 
in  his  own  temper  the  very  genius  of  the  northern  kind. 

[1] 


His  people  were  substantial,  of  the  strong  British  stock 
which  is  good  for  grafting  on.  In  the  sixteenth  century 
they  were  respected  in  and  about  Worcester;  one  of 
the  name  went  to  Parliament  in  1563,  and  another  had 
been  Mayor  in  1535.  In  the  eighteenth  century  some 
of  them  went  to  Surrey,  and  early  in  the  nineteenth 
Thomas  Street  was  a  solicitor  in  London.  He  had  moved 
into  the  suburbs,  however,  before  his  youngest  son, 
George  Edmund  Street,  was  born.  This  was  in  1824. 
The  boy  did  well  enough  at  school,  but  at  fifteen  he  was 
taken  away,  when  his  father  removed  from  Camberwell 
to  Crediton.  No  school  was  at  hand,  and  a  solicitor 
would  not  send  his  son  to  Eton  and  Oxford.  Instead,  he 
sent  him  to  the  London  office.  This  was  in  1840,  After 
the  father's  death,  in  that  year,  young  Street  was  anxious 
to  go  to  college  and  to  prepare  for  Holy  Orders,  but  want 
of  money  made  the  hope  impossible,  and  the  strong  vo- 
cation proved  to  be  for  the  Third  Order  —  a  layman's 
part  in  building  up  the  house  of  the  Lord  and  making 
fair  the  ministry  therein. 

It  seems  to  have  mattered  not  at  all,  in  the  event,  that 
Street  was  not  a  University  man.  In  reading  the  cor- 
respondence of  Keats,  we  must  deplore  that  he  had  not 
had  certain  conventions  of  good  taste  and  good  feeling 
sharply  imposed  upon  him  at  a  great  public  school;  in 
reading  the  poetry  of  Browning  we  must  regret  that  he 
missed  the  tradition  of  self-criticism  and  academic  sta- 
bility which  would  have  saved  him  from  the  fantasti- 
cality of  his  Greek  names  and  the  dullness  of  his  longer 
Parleyings;  but  Street  seems  to  have  got  out  of  his  pro- 
fession and  his  associates  all  that  Oxford  would  have 
given,  and  escaped  whatever  harm  it  could  have  done. 

[2] 


He  saved,  meanwhile,  nearly  ten  years  of  life,  and  spent 
these  on  churches,  chiefly  old.    He  has  not  the  marks  of 
the  University  man,  but  for  that  he  is  none  the  worse. 
No  more  in  truth  has  Morris.    Instead  of  culture  he  has 
energy,  instead  of  urbanity  he  has  self-control,  instead 
of  classical  he  has  professional  reading  behind  him.    It 
is  only  in  a  very  special  sense,  after  all,  that  he  did  with- 
out what  we  call  culture  and  what  we  call  urbanity;  in 
the  sense  of  Newman's  rather  malicious  definition  of  a 
gentleman  as  a  University  man  who  is  too  indifferent 
for  enthusiasms  and  too  sceptical   for  prejudices.     If 
young  Street  never  went  to  school  after  he  was  fifteen, 
and  no  record  remains  of  his  reading  regularly  or  under 
direction,  yet  he  read  irregularly  all  his  life;  by  middle 
age  he  had  read  everything  that  a  man  must  have  read. 
Beyond  this,  in  the  subjects  that  he  had  at  heart  he 
had  gone  wide  and  deep.     He  must  have  mastered  and 
spoken,  besides  French  and  German,  both  Italian  and 
Spanish,  and  he  carried  on  his  research  into  Latin  docu- 
ments, it  seems,  with  ease  and  speed.    After  meals  and 
on  journeys  the  busy  man  found  his  opportunity;   he 
took  up  and  took  in  a  vast  deal  of   contemporary 
thinking;   finished  the  newspaper  quickly,  and  reviews 
and  the  graver  sort  of  periodical  literature  almost  as 
fast.    In  his  case,  as  rarely  happens,  another  art  could 
give  what  most  men  seek  in  literature  if  they  ever  seek 
it,  and  the  taste  was  refined  and  the  spirit  inspired  not 
so  much  by  fine  poetry  as  by  pure  Gothic.   The  churches 
of  England  and  the  cathedrals  of  France  taught  him  that 
perfect  measure,  that  economy  of  force,  that  high  seri- 
ousness, that  austerity  of  beauty,  for  which  others  are 
sent  to  the  Iliad  and  the  Divine  Comedy.     Barring 

[3] 


belles-lettres  and  biology,  there  is  little  indeed,  whether 
in  science  or  in  mathematics,  that  the  University  can 
offer,  which  the  arts  do  not  exact.  If  architecture  is 
on  the  one  side  an  art,  it  is  on  the  other  a  profession, 
and  partakes  as  little  of  the  tradesman's  mean-minded- 
ness  as  of  the  artist's  irresponsibility.  It  is  probable, 
moreover,  that  his  passion  for  landscape  had  as  much 
to  do  in  forming  the  character  as  Wordsworth's.  By 
the  living  rock  and  the  ancient  wall,  by  the  perfect  fabric 
of  Notre  Dame  and  S.  Marco,  by  the  worship  in  chanted 
psalm  and  antiphonal  prayer,  his  spirit  was  forged  and 
tempered. 

At  school  he  had  sketched  and  scrawled,  and  when 
after  his  father's  death  in  1840  he  was  recalled  to  live 
with  his  mother  and  sister  at  Exeter,  he  studied  paint- 
ing for  a  while  as  painting  was  taught  in  the  provinces, 
learning  the  management  of  oils  and  the  science  of  per- 
spective. No  harm  could  come  from  this  except  that  in 
landscape  sketching  later  he  was  shy  of  strong  colour, 
and  set  down  Spain  and  Italy  more  pallid  than  he  liked; 
but  already  the  current  of  his  life  was  running  by  church 
walls.  In  the  year  before,  his  brother,  who  was  eight 
years  his  senior  and  was  brim-full  of  mediaevalism,  had 
taken  him  on  a  short  walking  trip  for  what  they  called 
ecclesiologizing.  For  a  while  he  lived  near  Exeter  cathe- 
dral, drawn  to  it  at  that  time  by  every  sentiment:  grief 
for  his  father  —  since  his  domestic  affections  were 
stable  —  and  anxiety  for  the  future,  strong  religious  feel- 
ing, aesthetic  feeling  as  strong,  the  beauty  of  the  service 
and  the  beauty  of  the  building.  Thence  he  made  another 
trip  with  this  same  brother,  Thomas,  around  about 
through  the  West  of  England  to  Barnstaple,  Bideford, 

[4] 


Torrington  and  Clovelly.  The  diary  of  that  tour,  writ- 
ten shortly  after  his  sixteenth  birthday,  is  simply  the 
first  of  the  always  happy  notebooks  which  record  his 
many  journeys  in  the  interest  of  landscape  and  art.  It 
sets  down  the  lay  of  the  land  and  the  aspect  of  the 
streets  where  they  passed;  it  notes  that  he  got  up  at 
six  to  sketch  out  of  his  bedroom  window;  and  it  pre- 
serves more  fact  than  comment,  and  less  of  the  trivial 
than  of  the  significant.  Within  another  year  he  was 
articled  to  an  architect  in  Winchester,  studying  the 
cathedral  from  every  point  and  at  every  hour.  The 
two  brothers  tramped  the  country  for  twenty  miles 
about,  and  as  they  could  pushed  further,  for  the 
most  part  on  foot  still.  In  the  spring  of  1843  they 
walked  to  Chichester;  in  the  autumn  into  Lincolnshire; 
the  next  year  into  Sussex.  In  1845  they  reached  North- 
ampton, returning  thither  in  1846  and  again  in  1850. 
The  same  autumn  he  went  to  the  Lake  Country  and 
thence  across  to  Durham  and  home  by  the  Yorkshire 
dales  and  abbeys.  Jervaulx,  however,  he  missed  at 
this  time,  nor  does  it  appear  among  the  sketches  of 
other  abbeys  in  a  notebook  of  1875.  In  the  spring 
of  1847  the  two  brothers  were  among  the  churches  of 
the  fen-land  in  Norfolk  and  Cambridgeshire.  Mean- 
while in  1844  Thomas,  who  was  the  eldest  of  the  broth- 
ers, and  had  succeeded  to  his  father's  practice,  took  a 
house  near  London  and  fetched  his  mother  and  sister 
to  live  with  him  there. 

George,  who  was  lonely  and  heartily  sick  of  Win- 
chester, came  up  to  share  it,  with  a  letter  for  G.  G. 
Scott  and  drawings  of  his  own  to  show.  Taken  on  be- 
cause work  was  pressing,  he  was  kept  on  because  his 

[5] 


work  was  good,  and  stayed  in  the  office  of  Scott  and 
Moffatt  until  he  was  ready  to  set  up  for  himself  five  years 
later.  Thomas  Street  by  1849  was  married;  the  require- 
ments of  his  profession,  if  not  more  serious,  were  more 
exacting.  He  made  fewer  tours,  but  his  taste  for  archi- 
tecture, and  apparently  his  taste  in  architecture,  re- 
mained sound.  "At  this  time,  they  were  all  living 
together  at  Lee,  and  afterwards  at  Peckham,"  says  the 
Memoir  written  in  1888  by  George  Street's  son.  "My 
aunt  relates  how  the  two  young  men  used  to  arrive  with 
sketch-books  full  and  rolls  of  rubbings  of  brasses,  and 
would  then  sit  up  till  the  small  hours,  in  all  the  ex- 
citement of  archaeological  discussions  and  arguments. 
My  uncle  [Thomas]  was  quite  untaught.  His  love  for 
and  appreciation  of  good  architecture  were  quite  spon- 
taneous, and  the  proficiency  which  he  attained  with 
his  pencil  and  the  knowledge  he  had  of  this  subject, 
more  than  considerable." 

As  the  first  knowledge  of  architecture  had  come 
through  a  brother,  so  Street's  first  commission  came 
through  the  sister.  Miss  Street  worked  at  ecclesiastical 
embroidery.  She  heard  through  another  lady  embroid- 
erer of  a  clergyman  who  intended  building  a  church  in 
Cornwall.  The  story  turns  prettily  on  the  scrupulous 
girl's  anxieties.  Mr.  Prynne,  the  clergyman,  begins  — 
"Has  your  brother  got  much  work  going  on?"  The 
sister,  who  wants  to  make  him  out  as  important  as  pos- 
sible, yet  cannot  bring  herself  to  a  fib;  and  the  sorry 
truth  that  he  is  quite  at  leisure  from  affairs  of  his  own, 
unexpectedly  satisfies  the  impatient  projector.  The 
commission  for  Biscovey  church  led  to  others  in  Corn- 
wall.     Between    restorations  and  new  churches    and 

[6] 


schools,  commissions  accumulated,  and  Street  at  this 
period  was  in  those  parts  for  several  weeks  together, 
three  or  four  times  a  year,  overseeing  the  work  in  prog- 
ress and  finding  new  work  ready  always  at  hand.  In 
1849  he  had  chambers  in  London  and  was  "on  his  own": 
at  the  end  of  1850  he  went  to  Wantage  to  be  within  reach 
of  Cuddesden,  being  appointed  by  the  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
diocesan  architect. 

Two  main  interests  mark  this  time.  He  was  engaged 
to  be  married,  and  he  was  at  the  well-spring  of  the 
Oxford  Movement.  He  spent  his  Sundays  at  Maiden- 
head with  Marquita  Proctor,  on  the  river,  seeing  churches 
and  sketching;  he  spent  his  working  days  at  Wantage. 

"Mr.  Street,  having  no  special  ties  to  any  locality, 
desired  to  live  at  Wantage  where  daily  service  and 
weekly  celebration  had  been  established  at  a  time 
when  such  were  rare.  He  took,  therefore,  in  conjunction 
with  Mr.  Stillingfleet  —  one  of  the  clergy  of  the  parish — 
a  little  house  in  Wallingford  Street.  During  the  time 
he  lived  there  I  saw  him  almost  daily."  This  is  Dr. 
William  Butler,  later  Dean  of  Lincoln.  "When  not 
called  from  Wantage  on  business,  he  regularly  attended 
my  service,  and  took  his  part  in  the  choir.  He  had,  I 
remember,  a  baritone  voice,  and  took  a  tenor  part. 
He  was  much  interested  in  the  improvement  of  services, 
and,  although  at  this  time  far  from  wealthy,  he  offered 
a  large  annual  subscription,  I  think  it  was  £20,  toward 
the  payment  of  an  organist.  .  .  .  Never  was  there  a  man 
of  simpler  or  less  luxurious  habits.  In  those  two  years 
he  dined  with  us  and  the  clergy  of  the  parish,  he  drank 
no  wine,  and  had  only  the  plainest  food." 

It  was  an  energetic  wholesome  life,  simple  not  so  much 
C7] 


by  limitation  as  by  renunciation,  full  of  interest  and  ex- 
pression, keeping  a  right  line,  as  always,  by  the  force  of 
the  initial  impulse.  The  energetic,  wholesome  figure 
stands  firm  in  a  clear  sunlight  that  is  hardly  dimmed  by 
the  space  of  sixty-odd  years  intervening.  With  nothing 
of  the  prig,  as  little  of  the  aesthete,  he  was  alien  to  both 
types  by  virtue  of  his  vitality,  his  mirth,  his  essential 
soundness.  A  daguerreotype  taken  about  1850  shows 
quiet  strength  with  a  sort  of  sweet  gravity.  The  hands 
are  strong  and  flexible,  not  large,  with  tapering  fingers 
and  fine  modelling  on  the  back.  You  would  have  turned 
in  the  street  to  look  after  the  head,  with  a  big  square 
brow  jutting  over  blue  eyes,  brown  hair  very  soft  and 
round  chin  very  firm,  a  mouth  poetic  and  self-controlled. 
If  poetry  were  (as  once  was  rashly  said)  merely  an  affair 
of  genius,  and  genius  the  affair  of  energy,  Street  would 
have  been  infallibly  a  poet.  Energy  and  beauty  in  him 
were  mingled  in  unusual  measure,  and  he  found  expres- 
sion in  active  more  than  in  abstract  creation:  in  loving 
landscape  and  sketching  it,  in  hearing  music  and  singing 
it,  in  building  Gothic  churches  and  restoring  them. 

His  invention  was  inexhaustible;  he  designed  not 
only  all  the  mouldings  for  his  churches,  and  all  deli- 
cately various,  not  only  reredos  and  pulpit,  baldachin 
and  font,  and  once  a  whole  book  of  organs,  but  equally 
as  a  matter  of  course  the  windows,  the  stalls,  the  iron- 
work, the  very  altar-cloths.  About  this  time  he  painted 
the  ceilings  to  some  of  his  churches  after  Fra  Angelico, 
and  elsewhere  from  his  own  designs.  His  early  work 
may  have  been  a  trifle  severe  at  times,  and  at  times  a 
trifle  daring,  but  it  had  always  freshness,  vitality,  one 
might  say  vibration.     His  capitals  ring  clearer  than 

[8] 


GEORGE   EDMUND  STREET  AT  ABOUT  TWENTY-FIVE 


glass  when  it  is  struck;  his  mouldings  sound  as  true  a 
note  as  a  violin  when  it  is  tuned.  His  building  expresses, 
beyond  possibility  of  mistake,  as  specific  a  sentiment  as 
any  composition  of  Palestrina  or  Fra  Angelico:  —  viz., 
religious  emotion,  a  combination  of  reverence  and  ac- 
tion, a  solemn  joy.  But  with  this  power  to  express  an 
emotion  from  within  himself  and  furthermore  to  create 
it  in  others,  went  an  indefatigable  energy.  He  was  tall 
and  very  ready  of  movement,  thickset  and  thin-skinned, 
blue-eyed  and  brown-bearded,  ruddy,  compact  of 
strength  and  gentleness. 

The  energy  found  outlet  normal  and  adequate  in 
three  directions  —  his  work,  his  affections  and  his  relig- 
ion. He  worked  apparently  as  a  young  dog  runs,  from 
accumulated  motor  impulses,  from  strength  that  brims 
over.  You  have  never  the  pang  of  our  brother  the  ass, 
over-ridden,  over-laden,  that  agonizes  under  the  goad. 
You  have  never  the  fever  craving  for  work  as  anodyne, 
that  drives  on  desperately  at  the  straining  task  as  the 
only  escape  from  the  hell-hounds  that  bay  hard  after 
the  sickening  soul.  The  work  is  never  done  for  work's 
sake.  It  is  a  pleasure  always,  but  only  by  the  way.  It 
is  done  to  support  some  one  he  loves  and  to  add  to  the 
glory  of  God. 

The  affections  are  close  and  sweet,  those  of  the  hearth. 
His  mother  was  a  good  Christian  but  even  more  a  Stoic, 
and  Street  held  her  the  better  for  it.  Theirs  was  a  love 
undemonstrative  but  recognized,  of  the  most  exacting 
sort,  neither  of  them  accepting  from  the  other  anything 
short  of  the  very  best.  After  he  went  to  Winchester, 
being  then  seventeen,  she  treated  him  like  a  man,  and 
rarely  praised  him  for  doing  what  he  should.    If  a  pleas- 

[9] 


ure  was  renounced,  she  said,  "I  knew  that  under  the 
circumstances  you  would  be  Philosopher  enough  to  give 
it  up."  Her  grandson  wrote:  "  It  is  enough  to  read  the 
mother's  letters  to  see  the  source  of  the  son's  strength 
and  steadfastness  of  character.  She  was  one  of  those 
women  who,  in  some  indefinable  way,  have  a  powerful 
influence  for  good  on  all  those  into  whose  company  they 
are  thrown;  who,  themselves  rather  sparing  in  outward 
signs  of  affection,  create  in  others  a  warm  love  and  a 
perfect  confidence.  Her  pride  in  her  son  was  unbounded, 
but  was  left  to  be  inferred  rather  than  expressed;  while 
her  love  was  shown  more  in  the  demand  for  sacrifices, 
in  the  confidence  with  which  she  appealed  to  her  son's 
sense  of  duty  and  obedience,  however  severe  the  test." 

Besides  a  wide  and  wakeful  kindness  and  untiring  in- 
terest in  others  of  his  own  profession,  he  had  full,  warm 
friendships,  but  where  he  could  he  took  his  pleasure 
with  his  nearest  of  kin.  The  early  journeys  were  made 
in  his  brother's  company,  the  continental  with  his  wife, 
and  later  with  his  son.  The  brothers,  George  and 
Thomas,  were  married  to  cousins,  and  up  to  the  very 
last  the  longest  and  most  frequent  visits  abroad  were 
made  to  his  son's  grandfather.  After  his  wife's  death 
he  took  for  a  second  wife  her  close  friend,  an  intimate 
of  the  household  and  frequent  companion. 

The  relations  not  of  choice,  the  intimacies  sweetened 
and  consecrated  by  tender  use  and  wont  and  all  the 
sanctities  of  the  hearth,  the  blind  impulses  of  the  blood 
and  yearnings  of  the  flesh  toward  kindred  flesh  and  blood, 
were  for  him  alike  inevitable  and  dear.  Here  also  he  ex- 
presses the  genius  of  the  English  stock.  The  northern 
race  stood  out  long  for  the  righteousness  of  the  married 

[10] 


life  even  in  the  priesthood,  and  the  English  church  has 
at  all  times  tended  toward  the  family  life  as  distin- 
guished from  the  cloistered,  and  elaborated  and  adorned 
those  services  and  sacraments  which  celebrate  marriage 
and  the  birth  of  children  and  their  coming  to  maturity. 
The  Church  of  England  may  be  in  a  position  undig- 
nified, uncomfortable,  or  even  ridiculous,  coupled  up 
with  the  State  as  it  is;  the  doctrine  of  the  great  English 
churchmen  may  be  honeycombed  with  Erastianism; 
but  the  English  church  has  the  virtue  of  providing  for 
every  one  of  her  children,  lay  not  less  than  clerical,  a 
daily  office  in  which  they  may  take  an  intelligent,  a  per- 
sonal, and  a  common  share.  The  first  characteristic  of 
the  primitive  church  was  apparently  the  fact  of  worship 
done  in  common,  action  in  some  sort  not  merely  simul- 
taneous but  mutual.  There  are  some  —  the  Society  of 
Friends  for  instance  —  who  define  religion  by  that  col- 
lectivity of  feeling,  and  in  expectation  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
assemble  themselves  together.  They  draw  most  profit 
from  thirty  minutes  of  silent  meditation  where  a  hundred 
people  in  presence  make  up  that  silence  and  meditate 
each  one.  The  monastic  life,  with  its  multiplied  choir 
offices,  met  in  another  way  this  same  desire  for  the 
warmth  of  human  contact,  this  same  enhancement  of 
the  experience  of  the  whole  far  beyond  the  several  ex- 
periences. The  Roman  church,  with  its  sodalities  and 
confraternities  meeting  regularly  for  special  services, 
its  litanies  and  rosaries  recited  by  tired,  troubled  women 
together  after  nightfall,  has  recognized  this  and  is  busy 
recovering  hereby  what  has  been  lost  out  of  the  Sacra- 
ment of  the  Mass.  I  remember  after  three  weeks'  inces- 
sant travel  finding  myself  in  Siena  cathedral,  among 

[11] 


women  unquestionably  devout,  who  held  well-thumbed 
books,  and,  having  lost  count  of  the  Sundays  after  Pen- 
tecost, as  I  opened  my  Paroissien  I  asked  my  neighbour 
on  the  right  what  Sunday  it  was.  She  shook  her  head 
and  questioned  her  neighbour;  I  turned  to  the  one  on 
my  left,  but  there  was  no  one  within  decent  whispering 
distance  who  knew  what  the  priests  and  the  choir  were 
singing  that  day.  Against  such  a  chance,  their  church 
service  assures  Anglicans.  The  English  Prayer  Book 
may  be  a  compromise,  the  office  for  morning  and  even- 
ing prayer  may  be  patched  up  and  anomalous,  but  it 
is  an  order  of  common  prayer.  The  instinct  of  kind 
enhances  the  personal  expression  of  psalm  and  antiphon, 
and  daily  service  and  saints'-day  celebration  have  the 
sweetness  and  warmth  of  the  family  life,  the  dearness  of 
the  sacred  ritual  of  the  hearth. 

Into  his  religion  Street  was  born,  as  he  was  born  into 
his  family.  In  the  dawn  of  consciousness  he  found  it 
about  him;  with  adolescence  he  felt  it  an  influence  and 
a  motive.  In  the  months  at  Exeter  he  was  anxious 
often,  but  always  there  was  the  cathedral.  In  the  last 
year  at  Winchester  he  was  lonely  and  sick  for  home,  but 
at  hand  there  was  the  cathedral.  While  in  Scott's  office 
he  used  to  go  with  his  sister  to  mattins  before  walking 
into  town;  in  the  later  years  in  London  he  never  missed 
with  his  wife  the  early  celebration  on  saints'-days. 
Church-going  was  as  natural  as  eating,  and  as  satis- 
factory. He  loved  God  as  consciously  as  he  loved  his 
mother  and  his  wife;  and  said  even  less  about  it.  After 
he  gave  up  the  hope  of  taking  Holy  Orders  he  made  a 
plan  for  a  sort  of  half-monastic  fraternity  of  artists  and 
architects,  who  should  be  in  art  what  the  Templars 

[12] 


were,  selected,  set  apart,  and  dedicated.  It  was  pat- 
terned after  his  own  life  unawares. 

Younger  than  any  of  the  great  men  of  the  Oxford 
Movement,  he  was  born  in  the  Promised  Land.  What 
they  had  hardly  won,  he  inherited  untroubled.  Among 
the  many  things  the  average  Englishman  would  rather 
go  without  than  talk  about,  even  to  himself,  may  be 
counted  his  religion,  but  the  strain  of  enthusiasm  in  the 
temper  of  Street,  the  genius  that  leavens  his  English 
substance,  would  not  let  him  rest  without  a  reason  for 
the  faith  that  was  in  him.  He  read  and  thought  much 
at  this  time.  In  later  years,  while  the  phrasing  is  reti- 
cent yet  the  architecture  is  eloquent.  In  carved  stone 
and  hewn  timber,  in  chant  and  carol,  in  the  colour  and 
contour  of  his  records  of  the  visible  world,  he  let  loose 
the  strong  inward  impulse  that  burned  upward  like  a 
flame.  His  natural  element  was  creation  not  conflict, 
and  though  he  could  strike  a  good  blow  at  "pagan" 
architecture  and  services  restricted  to  the  clergy  and 
the  seventh  day,  he  seems  to  have  had  small  joy  in 
fighting  and  it,  perhaps,  killed  him  at  the  last.  On  the 
ground,  already  won,  of  English  Catholicity,  he  stood 
firm  and  built  strong  and  fair.  Webbe  and  Neale  and 
Wilberforce,  and  I  suppose  Keble  and  Pusey,  were  friends 
and  advisers,  but  his  real  contemporaries  were  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  Brotherhood  with  their  allies  and  admirers 
who  launched  the  Aesthetic  Movement. 

How  that  was  born  at  Oxford,  and  was  baptized  into 
the  English  church  with  the  Heir  of  Redely ffe  for  god- 
father, is  hard  to  keep  in  mind.  But  Morris  and  Burne- 
Jones  knew  each  other  there  and  knew  Street,  who  had 
married  in  the  June  of  1852  and  taken  his  wife  to  a  house 

[13] 


in  Beaumont  Street.  To  us  in  another  century  it  seems 
that  in  those  years,  from  1852  when  the  two  boys  from 
Walthamstow  and  Birmingham  met  and  matriculated 
together  at  Exeter  College,  even  to  1857  when  Rossetti 
brought  them  back  to  paint  the  walls  of  the  Union, 
Oxford  must  have  been  a  place  of  lightnings  and  splen- 
dours. It  sheds  the  same  radiance  that  a  great  city  just 
beyond  the  horizon's  bound  throws  up  at  night  against 
low-hanging  clouds.  To  them  it  seemed  spiritually  grey 
and  dull  enough.  The  Oxford  Movement  was  in  a  sense 
ended;  some  men  had  broken  away,  some  had  got  to 
cover,  and  in  the  rest  religious  emotion,  having  gone 
past  the  stage  of  smoke  and  flame,  glowed  clear  but 
very  still.  Burne-Jones,  according  to  his  wife,  "had 
thought  to  find  the  place  still  warm  from  the  fervour  of 
the  learned  and  pious  men  who  had  shaken  the  whole 
land  by  their  cry  of  danger  within  and  without  the 
Church.  .  .  .  But  when  he  got  there  the  whole  life  seemed 
to  him  languid  and  indifferent,  with  scarcely  anything 
left  to  show  the  fiery  times  so  lately  past." 

"Oxford  is  a  glorious  place,"  he  wrote  home,  "God- 
like. At  night  I  have  walked  round  the  colleges  under 
the  full  moon  and  thought  it  would  be  heaven  to  live 
and  die  here."    He  described  it  later:  — 

"  It  was  a  different  Oxford  in  those  days  from  anything 
that  a  visitor  would  now  dream  of.  On  all  sides,  except 
where  it  touched  the  railway,  the  city  ended  abruptly, 
as  if  a  wall  had  been  about  it,  and  you  came  suddenly 
upon  the  meadows.  There  was  little  brick  in  the  city, 
it  was  either  grey  with  stone  or  yellow  with  the  wash  of 
the  pebble-dash  in  the  poorer  streets.  It  was  an  endless 
delight  with  us  to  wander  about  the  streets  where  were 

[14] 


still  many  old  houses  with  wood-carving  and  a  little 
sculpture  here  and  there.  The  chapel  of  Merton  College 
had  been  lately  renovated  by  Butterfield,  and  Pollin,  a 
former  fellow  of  Merton,  had  painted  the  roof  of  it. 
Indeed,  I  think  the  buildings  of  Merton  and  the  cloisters 
of  New  College  were  our  chief  shrines  in  Oxford." 

These  two  undergraduates,  both  alike  so  young  and 
so  typically  English,  lived  at  a  high  pitch  in  those  years; 
each  strong  impetus  pushing  hard  upon  the  foregoing. 
There  was,  to  begin,  an  intention  to  take  Orders,  with  a 
real  and  inward  sense  of  dedication  in  both.  Out  of  that 
flowered  Burne-Jones's  dream  of  a  Brotherhood  very 
like  that  which  Street  had  earlier  nursed.  "A  small 
conventual  society  of  cleric  and  lay  members  working 
in  the  heart  of  London,"  his  wife  called  it  soberly,  many 
years  later,  but  he  himself,  at  the  time,  "the  Order  of 
Sir  Galahad."  To  a  friend  he  wrote  at  the  end  of  a  letter 
—  and  the  postcript  is  like  one  of  his  own  exquisite  pen- 
cil drawings,  all  archaic,  and  altogether  lovely:  "You 
have  as  yet  taken  no  vows,  therefore  you  are  as  yet 
perfectly  at  liberty  to  decide  your  own  fate.  If  your 
decision  involve  the  happiness  of  another  you  know  your 
course,  follow  nature,  and  remember  the  soul  is  above  the 
mind  and  the  heart  greater  than  the  brain;  for  it  is  mind 
that  makes  man,  but  soul  that  makes  man  angel.  Man 
as  the  seat  of  mind  is  Isolated  in  the  universe,  for  angels 
that  are  above  him  and  hearts  that  are  below  him  are 
mindless,  but  it  is  soul  that  links  him  with  higher  beings 
and  distinguishes  him  from  the  lower  also,  therefore 
develops  it  to  the  full,  and  if  you  have  one  who  may 
serve  for  a  personification  of  all  humanity,  expand  your 
love  there,  and  it  will  orb  from  its  centre  wider  and 

[15] 


wider,  like  circles  in  water  when  a  stone  is  thrown  there- 
in. But  self-denial  and  self-disappointment,  though  I 
do  not  urge  it,  is  even  better  to  the  soul  than  that.  If 
we  lose  you  from  the  cause  of  celibacy,  you  are  no  traitor; 
only  do  not  be  hasty.  Pax  vobiscum  in  seternum  — 
Edouard." 

That  summer  they  went  to  France  and  saw  Amiens. 
Their  companion  said:  "Morris  surveyed  it  with  calm 
joy  and  Jones  was  speechless  with  admiration.  It  did 
not  awe  me  until  it  got  quite  dark,  for  we  stayed  till 
after  seven,  but  it  was  so  solemn,  so  human  and  divine 
in  its  beauty  that  love  cast  out  fear."  They  went  to 
Beauvais,  Paris  and  Chartres.  "There  we  were  for  two 
days,  spending  all  our  time  in  the  church,  and  thence 
made  northward  for  Rouen,  travelling  gently  and  stop- 
ping at  every  church  we  could  find.  Rouen  was  still  a 
beautiful  mediaeval  city,  and  we  stayed  awhile  and  had 
our  hearts  filled.  From  there  we  walked  to  Caudebec, 
then  by  diligence  to  Havre,  on  our  way  to  the  churches 
of  the  Calvados;  and  it  was  while  walking  on  the  quay 
at  Havre  at  night  that  we  resolved  definitely  that  we 
would  begin  a  life  of  art  and  put  off  our  decision  no  longer 
—  he  should  be  an  architect  and  I  a  painter.  It  was 
a  resolve  only  needing  final  conclusion;  we  were  bent 
on  that  road  for  the  whole  past  year  and  after  that  night's 
talk  we  never  hesitated  more —  that  was  the  most  mem- 
orable night  of  my  life." 

They  were  to  start  The  Oxford  and  Cambridge  Maga- 
zine, and  Burne-Jones  was  to  meet  Rossetti  and  very 
heartily  worship  him  but  never  to  be  drawn,  even  by 
that  blazing,  fiery  star,  out  of  his  own  orbit  of  art  delib- 
erate and  devout.    Morris  meanwhile,  as  soon  as  he  had 

[16] 


taken  his  degree,  addressed  himself  to  work  under 
Street.  Afterwards,  as  we  know,  he  tried  painting, 
before  he  found  his  happiest  outlet  in  decorative  design- 
ing, in  dyeing  and  printing,  and  surely  his  finest  and 
most  enduring  expression  in  the  writing  that  came  so 
easily  we  can  only  wish  that  he  had  taken  it  harder. 
A  note  of  Burne-Jones's  in  the  year  1856  is  so  charming 
and  so  characteristic  that  it  may  well  serve  as  the  note 
of  the  whole  set  when  they  had  really  found  themselves. 
"There  was  a  year  in  which  I  think  it  never  rained  nor 
clouded,  but  was  blue  summer  from  Christmas  to  Christ- 
mas, and  London  streets  glimmered,  and  it  was  always 
morning,  and  the  air  sweet  and  full  of  bells." 

Their  lives  were,  however,  what  could  not  be  called 
less  than  intense.  Their  emotions  were  all  fervid  and 
their  sentiments  all  impassioned,  their  enthusiasms 
fairly  militant,  their  convictions  even  intransigent. 
Lady  Burne-Jones  communicates  an  exquisite  sense  of 
their  way  of  being  something  better  than  human  nature's 
daily  food: 

"I  wish  it  were  possible  to  explain  the  impression 
made  upon  me  as  a  young  girl.  .  .  The  only  approach 
I  can  make  to  describing  it  is  by  saying  that  I  felt  in  the 
presence  of  a  new  religion.  Their  love  of  beauty  did 
not  seem  to  me  unbalanced,  but  as  if  it  included  the 
whole  world  and  raised  the  point  from  which  they  re- 
garded everything."  Again  she  quotes  from  a  letter  of 
her  husband's,  written  long  afterwards,  an  impression  of 
that  first  journey  into  France.  "  Do  you  know  Beauvais, 
which  is  the  most  beautiful  church  in  the  world?  I 
must  see  it  again  some  day  —  one  day  I  must.  It  is 
thirty-seven  years  since  I  saw  it  and  I  remember  it  all 

[17] 


—  and  the  processions  —  and  the  trombones  —  and  the 
ancient  singing  —  more  beautiful  than  anything  I  had 
ever  heard  and  I  think  I  have  never  heard  the  like  since. 
And  the  great  organ  that  made  the  air  tremble  —  and 
the  greater  organ  that  pealed  out  suddenly  and  I  thought 
the  Day  of  Judgement  had  come  —  and  the  roof,  and 
the  long  lights  that  are  the  most  graceful  thing  man  has 
ever  made.  What  a  day  it  was,  and  how  alive  I  was, 
and  young  —  and  a  blue  dragon-fly  stood  still  in  the 
air  so  long  that  I  could  have  painted  him.  Yes,  if  I 
took  account  of  my  life  and  the  days  in  it  that  went  to 
make  me,  the  Sunday  at  Beauvais  would  be  the  first 
day  of  creation." 

Emotion  exquisite  and  almost  as  frail  as  the  dragon- 
fly, almost  as  quick  to  pass  as  the  Sunday  sunlight!  It 
is  the  impression  of  a  boy,  an  aesthete  and  a  poet,  who 
kept  to  the  end  of  his  days  the  same  sensibility  and  the 
same  delight  in  beauty  tangible.  What  he  expresses, 
however,  he  felt  with  his  generation ;  his  associates  had 
a  like  organization  and  a  like  attitude.  In  that  very 
year  Street,  who  had  gone  first  to  France,  at  a  like  age, 
not  so  long  before,  wrote  from  recollection,  in  a  paper 
that  was  read  at  Oxford  and  published  at  Cambridge: 

"One  of  the  first  elements  is  height.  I  know  of  no 
one  thing  in  which  one  is  so  much  astonished,  in  all  one's 
visits  to  foreign  churches,  as  by  the  luxury  of  that  art 
which  could  afford  to  be  so  daringly  grand.  From  the 
small  chapel,  not  forty  feet  long,  to  the  glorious  minster 
of  some  four  hundred,  one  feels  more  and  more  impressed 
with  the  sense  which  the  old  men  evidently  entertained 
of  its  value;  and  exaggerated  as  it  often  is,  even  to  the 
most  curious  extent,  it  is  never  contemptible.    It  is  in- 

[18] 


deed  a  glorious  element  of  grandeur,  and  not  the  less  to 
be  admired  by  Englishmen  because  we  seem  always  to 
have  preferred  length  to  it;  whilst  they,  so  they  could 
have  height,  cared  little  as  to  the  length  to  which  they 
could  draw  out  a  long  arcade,  and  prolong  the  infinite 
perspective  of  a  roof.  And  there  is  perhaps  this  advan- 
tage of  height  over  length,  that  whilst  the  one  seems 
entirely  done  for  the  glory  of  God,  the  other  is  always 
more  apparently  for  use.  So  in  a  church,  height  in  excess 
seems  to  typify  the  excess  of  their  adoration  who  so 
built;  whilst  the  greater  length  makes  one  think  of  pos- 
sible calculations  as  to  how  many  thousands  of  men 
and  women  might  pass  through,  or  how  long  a  proces- 
sion. .  .  .  And  as  I  have  said  so  much  about  foreign  ex- 
amples I  will  but  observe  that  the  wonderful  beauty  of 
the  apsidal  east  ends  abroad  ought  to  be  gladly  seized 
upon. ...  No  one  who  has  stood  as  I  have  at  the  west  end 
of  such  a  cathedral  as  that  at  Chartres,  and  watched  the 
last  rays  die  out  from  all  other  windows  and  at  last  grad- 
ually fade  away  from  the  eastern  crown  of  light  in  its 
five  windows;  or  who  has  seen  the  mounting  sun  come 
through  all  those  openings  one  after  the  other,  with 
matchless  and  continued  brilliancy,  would  deny  that 
such  glorious  beauties  are  catholic  of  necessity,  and  not 
to  be  confined  by  custom  or  etiquette  to  one  age  or  one 
nation." 

There  is  the  expression  of  the  man,  mustering  his 
facts,  enforcing  his  conclusions,  weighing  his  estimates, 
recording  of  his  pleasure  the  least  possible  part.  The 
comparison  is  hardly  fair  to  painter  or  builder  either, 
but  it  is  none  the  less  significant.  His  power  of  expres- 
sion, to  be  sure,  is  less,  and  his  determination  toward 

[19] 


self-control  is  greater,  but  all  the  while  the  source  of 
delight,  though  stiller,  is  no  less  deep.  Street's  private 
notebooks  are  as  reticent  as  his  public  papers.  Like 
everything  else  that  he  did,  they  illustrate  the  charac- 
teristic maxim  which  opens  The  Christian  Year,  that, 
next  to  a  sound  rule  of  faith,  there  is  nothing  of  so  much 
consequence  as  a  sober  standard  of  feeling  —  strong 
feeling,  but  sober.  A  better  notion  of  his  response 
to  beauty  could  be  formed  from  some  personal  letters 
that  he  wrote  in  1845,  being  then  twenty-one  years 
of  age. 

"  I  got  out  at  Milton  station  and  trudged  off  for  Lan- 
ercost  Abbey,  an  enthusiastic  ecclesiologist,  with  every- 
thing upon  earth  to  make  my  enthusiasm  higher  than 
usual  —  a  glorious  autumn  day,  a  beautiful  walk  and  an 
abbey  in  prospect,  in  ruins  it  is  true,  but  so  lovely  and 
admirable  in  its  ruin  that  in  my  admiration  of  it,  the 
day,  and  the  scenery,  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  be  en- 
raged with  its  iconoclastic  destroyers;  but  it  was  not  in 
mortal  temper,  after  having  seen  and  sketched  it  and 
studied  it  carefully  and  lovingly  as  I  did,  to  ascend  the 
hill  away  from  it,  to  look  at  the  river  still  rushing  along 
as  beautiful  and  as  swift  as  when  holy  men  planned  its 
bridge  of  yore,  to  look  at  the  sunny  fields  first  cultivated 
by  them,  and  not  to  feel  sorrow  and  indignation  at  the 
thought  that  avarice  and  sin  could  so  far  have  trans- 
ported men  as  to  lead  them  to  the  destruction  of  so  fair 
a  scene."  "O  that  the  abusers  of  the  monastic  system 
would  trouble  themselves  to  examine  this  once  happy 
valley,  and  watch  the  soothing  influence  of  the  lovely 
building  and  landscape,  and  would  ask  themselves 
whether  they  did  not,  in  looking,  feel  more  of  reverence, 

[20] 


more  of  awe  and  of  love  for  the  religions  and  for  tiie 
men  than  they  have  heretofore  felt." 

Street  was  twenty-six  before  he  crossed  the  Channel. 
A  foreigner  may  be  pardoned  for  feeling  it  a  piece  of  his 
good  luck  that  he  should  have  learned  and  loved  the 
English  Gothic  before  seeing  the  larger  beauties  and  the 
grander  styles  of  France,  lest  otherwise  his  own  should 
have  seemed  to  him  fair  but  pallid,  pure  but  cold,  bear- 
ing much  the  same  relation  to  the  continental  that  the 
English  service  bears  to  the  Roman  use.  It  was  not  in 
him,  however,  to  withdraw  the  affection  once  given  for 
due  cause,  nor  yet  to  withhold  that  just  devotion  the 
larger  excellence  could  command.  For  him  the  greater 
glory  would  not  dim  the  less.  Both  shared  henceforth 
in  his  life. 

The  foreign  journey  was  omitted  only  twice,  in  the 
year  1855,  when  his  son  was  born  in  October,  and  in  1870, 
when  the  Germans  had  invaded  France.  In  the  latter 
year  Street  went  to  Scotland;  in  the  former  he  stayed 
at  home  on  the  Thames  with  Mrs.  Street's  people,  bring- 
ing out  his  Italian  book  and  working  on  the  buildings 
for  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  at  Cuddesden.  Towards  the 
end  of  the  year  he  moved  to  London  and  took  a  house 
in  Montague  Place.  The  plans  which  he  submitted  in 
competition  for  a  new  cathedral  at  Lille  won  a  second 
prize,  and  the  Frenchman  to  whom  the  actual  building 
was  given  in  the  end  had  been  rated  originally  below 
him.  He  had  by  this  time  at  least  three  assistants 
working  under  him  regularly,  Edmund  Sedding,  Philip 
Webbe,  and  William  Morris.  He  was  perpetually  oc- 
cupied with  parishes  and  private  persons  —  on  schools, 
chapels,  restorations,  residences  even,  country  churches 

[21] 


fitted  to  a  village  community,  town  churches  designed 
for  the  artisan  populace  and  their  employers.  He  had 
finished  Cuddesden  College  and  carried  work  far  already 
on  the  whole  important  cluster  of  diocesan  buildings; 
he  had  begun  building  for  the  Anglican  sisterhood  at 
East  Grinstead;  he  had  been  praised  not  a  little  in  the 
competition  at  Lille;  he  was  to  take  a  second  place,  the 
next  year,  with  his  design  for  the  Crimean  Memorial 
and  in  the  end  to  build  the  church;  and  shortly  there- 
after he  sent  in  plans  for  new  Government  Offices. 
About  this  last  he  reasoned,  with  the  spendthrift  logic 
of  youth,  that  while  he  could  hardly  expect  to  win  the 
commission  with  a  Gothic  design,  the  premium  offered 
to  him  among  others  of  the  best  was  a  hundred  pounds 
and  would  give  him  another  trip  to  Italy,  while  he 
would  gain,  furthermore,  from  the  public  exhibition  of 
the  drawings. 

The  undertaking  cost,  to  be  sure,  time  and  strength, 
but  of  these  he  was  never  stingy.  He  seems  to  have 
known  how  to  be  at  once  thrifty  and  generous  of  him- 
self —  generous  perhaps  because  thrifty.  All  his  life  he 
seems  to  have  done  three  men's  work  in  a  day  and  all 
work  in  a  third  of  the  time  that  other  men  would  take. 
He  mentions  once,  being  on  a  journey,  that  "it  rained, 
so  we  read,  wrote,  and  occupied  the  many  hours  in  the 
rumbling  diligence  as  best  we  might."  The  notes  were 
written  often  in  diligence  or  train,  as  the  firm  clear 
writing  betrays,  while  it  remains  characteristic  and  leg- 
ible. He  worked  habitually  till  half-past  twelve  at  night, 
yet  with  all  the  incessant  occupation  of  the  most  exacting 
sort,  in  large  measure  creative  labour,  you  never  think 
of  him,  as  he  never  can  have  thought  of  himself,  as 

[22] 


overworked.  The  essential  soundness,  the  vital  force 
made  his  way  of  life  spontaneous  and  inevitable.  The 
strong,  even,  white  teeth,  the  strong,  curling,  brown 
beard,  were  the  visible  token  of  bodily  sanity  and  power, 
a  sort  of  physical  validity  of  which  the  cause  was  not 
merely  physical. 

As  the  mediaeval  builders  reared  and  poised  their 
great  churches  by  a  calculated  balance  of  thrust  and 
strain,  and  hung  aloft  in  stone  a  proposition  in  propor- 
tion, so,  you  feel,  with  Street,  it  must  have  been 
some  extraordinarily  just  measure,  some  perfect  balance 
of  temper,  some  secret  of  self-control,  only  comparable 
to  the  engineer's  control  of  his  crane  or  hammer  or  loco- 
motive, that  gave  him  life  so  abounding  and  yet  so 
temperate,  so  huge  in  accomplishment  and  yet  so  undis- 
tressed.  If  we  know  that  at  times  the  pulse  and  the  in- 
vention flagged,  yet  it  is  only  because  we  know  by 
testimony  that  tasks  designed  in  hours  of  gloom  were 
not,  indeed,  fulfilled  in  hours  of  insight,  but  instead  they 
were  destroyed,  to  be  replaced  later  by  designs  better 
because  of  more  vitality  and  more  elan. 

Doubtless  in  this  a  fine  natural  constitution  played  a 
large  part,  but  even  a  larger  part,  one  is  tempted  to 
think,  belongs  to  faith.  Nisi  Dominum,  says  the  Psalm- 
ist, but  here  the  Lord  did  keep  the  house  and  their 
labour  was  not  lost  that  built  it.  One  thinks  of  Huxley 
coming  home  exhausted  from  his  lectures  to  lie  on  a  sofa 
at  one  side  of  the  hearth,  that  on  the  other  side  being 
permanently  occupied  by  his  wife.  There  can  be  little 
question  which  of  the  two  men  did  more  for  his  genera- 
tion, but  also  there  can  be  no  question  which  found 
more  substantial  and  untroubled  happiness.    "It  is  not 

[23] 


lost  labour  that  ye  rise  up  so  early,  and  so  late  take 
rest,  and  eat  the  bread  of  carefulness,  for  so  He  giveth 
His  beloved  sleep."  By  every  reasonable  standard  of 
happiness  we  must  admit  that  Street's  work,  untiring, 
joyous,  faithful,  done  in  direct  loyalty  to  God  Almighty, 
bore  the  fruit  of  a  constant  blessing. 

The  domestic  affections  and  the  service  of  religion 
filled  up  a  life  singularly  pleasant  to  contemplate.  Boat- 
ing, cricket  matches  and  riding,  plain-song  meetings  and 
the  Philharmonic  Society,  opera,  exhibitions  and  sales 
of  pictures,  all  found  place  without  crowding.  If  he  did 
not  ride  he  wrote  letters  for  an  hour  and  a  half  or  two 
hours  before  breakfast.  He  had  his  office  in  the  house 
and  kept  long  hours  in  it  without  interruption  except 
from  clients,  but  his  little  son  was  admitted  as  some- 
thing less  than  a  trouble,  and  watched  him  designing. 
An  assistant  said,  later:  "We  worked  hard,  or  thought 
we  did.  We  had  to  be  at  the  office  at  nine  o'clock  and 
our  hour  of  leaving  was  six  o'clock,  long  hours  —  but  he 
never  encroached  on  our  time  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  I 
am  sure  I  never  stayed  a  minute  past  six  o'clock." 

After  dinner  there  might  be  music,  at  home  or  abroad, 
cards  or  reading,  or  a  cigar  and  talk  on  the  balcony  over 
the  square  —  a  London  balcony,  dingy  and  flower-beset, 
above  a  London  square  in  summer,  dim  with  twilight 
and  coal-smoke,  smelling  of  soot  and  dewfall  on  green 
leaves.  At  half-past  nine  came  tea  and  thereafter  three 
hours  more  of  good  work  alone.  He  travelled,  of  course, 
more  than  a  little,  and  on  the  journey  put  in  the  normal 
day's  work.  The  same  friend  goes  on:  "I  well  remem- 
ber a  little  tour  deforce  that  fairly  took  our  breath  away. 
He  told  us  one  morning  that  he  was  just  off  to  measure 

[24] 


an  old  church,  I  think  in  Buckinghamshire,  and  he  left 
by  the  ten  o'clock  train.  About  half-past  four  he  came 
back  and  into  the  office  for  some  drawing  paper;  he 
then  retired  to  his  own  room,  reappearing  in  about  an 
hour's  time  with  the  whole  church  carefully  drawn  to 
scale,  with  his  proposed  additions  to  it,  margin  lines 
and  title  as  usual,  all  ready  to  ink  in  and  finish.  Surely 
this  was  a  sufficiently  good  day's  work.  Two  journeys, 
a  whole  church  measured,  plotted  to  scale,  and  new 
parts  designed,  in  about  seven  hours  and  a  half.  He  was 
the  beau-ideal  of  a  perfect  enthusiast.  He  believed  in 
his  own  work,  and  in  what  he  was  doing  at  the  time, 
absolutely;  and  the  charm  of  his  work  is  that  when 
looking  at  it  you  may  be  certain  that  it  is  entirely  his 
own,  and  this  applies  to  the  smallest  detail  as  to  the 
general  conception.  ...  No  wonder  we  were  enthusiastic 
with  such  performances  going  on  under  our  eyes  daily." 
Yes,  it  is  good  to  know  that  such  lives  can  be,  filled 
with  pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  conscious  strength,  suf- 
ficient unto  the  day,  with  enough  for  all  needs  and  to 
spare.  It  is  like  watching  a  blooded  dog  or  a  thorough- 
bred horse.  As  a  rule  we  compare  men  to  pleasant 
animals  only  when  they  are  unpleasant  men,  and  say 
they  are  engaging  only  when  we  cannot  say  they  are 
trustworthy.  Here  was  one  singularly  engaging.  Every 
one  in  remembering  him  recalls  his  wit,  fireside  mirth, 
good  temper,  ready  answer.  When  a  dull  gentleman, 
having  dissected  at  great  length  the  old  mare's  nest 
about  mediaeval  irregularities  in  design,  wound  up  after 
a  pompous  question  about  the  secrets  of  freemasonry: 
"Now  Mr.  Street,  what  do  you  think?"  Street  flashed 
back:  "What  do  I  think?  I  think  the  beggars  could  not 

[25] 


build  straight."  When  a  young  architect  consulted  him 
about  going  to  law  to  recover  his  designs  from  a  client 
—  would  it  be  wise?  Street  answered,  "That  depends 
on  what  sort  of  man  your  client  is  and  whether  you 
have  any  expectation  of  further  commissions  from 
him."  "His  experience  and  natural  shrewdness,"  wrote 
an  acquaintance  at  the  time  of  his  death,  "made  him 
a  valuable  adviser  on  points  of  professional  practice, 
and  he  had  a  humour  very  often  caustic,  which  one 
could  not  help  sympathizing  with." 

He  was  a  good  son  and  brother,  a  good  husband  and 
father,  without  loss  of  manliness.  No  man  was  less  a 
prig.  No  man,  indeed,  was  ever  more  respectable,  but 
the  touch  of  genius  makes  respectability  itself  engaging. 
He  was  not  subtle,  but  his  directness  can  make  subtlety 
look  devious  and  insincere.  He  was  not  complex,  but 
his  straightness  can  make  complexity  look  morbid  and 
mean-minded.  In  1863  Crabbe  Robinson  wrote  in  his 
diary: 

''October  17.  Dined  with  the  Streets.  Our  amuse- 
ment was  three-handed  whist.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Street  very  kind.  On  every  point  of  public  interest  he 
and  I  differ,  but  it  does  not  affect  our  apparent  esteem 
for  one  another.  I  hold  him  in  very  great  respect, 
indeed  admiration.  He  has  first-rate  talent  in  his  pro- 
fession as  an  architect.  He  will  be  a  great  man  in  act  — 
he  is  so  in  character  already." 

He  lived  afterwards  in  Russell  Square  and  then  in 
Cavendish  Square;  always  in  the  dear,  unspoiled,  sub- 
stantial, smoke-stained  professional  quarter,  the  London 
of  those  that  live  there  all  the  year,  where  autumn 
lights  vistas  of  tawny  splendour  down  every  street,  and 

[26] 


spring  offers  nosegays  of  early  wall-flower  and  narcissus 
from  the  Scilly  Isles  at  every  corner;  where  the  air  per- 
petually tastes  of  soft  coal,  damp  mud,  and  warm  malt; 
where  in  December  the  moist  pavement  glistens  with 
a  permanent  slime,  and  in  May  the  porch  roofs  burgeon 
into  azaleas  pied  and  trailing  pink  geraniums. 

His  life  thenceforth  falls  into  such  periods  as  Ezekiel 
counted,  —  a  time  and  a  time  and  half  a  time.  Ten 
years,  from  1855  to  1865,  were  given  to  church-building, 
to  travel  for  the  sake  of  study,  to  writing,  beginning  with 
the  Brick  and  Marble  in  Italy  and  culminating  in  the 
Gothic  Architecture  in  Spain.  Mainly  within  the  next 
ten  fall  the  great  commissions  —  for  the  Law  Courts, 
for  building  the  nave  of  Bristol  cathedral,  for  rebuild- 
ing the  cathedral  at  Dublin,  for  restoring  that  of  York. 
If  this  period  is  closed  with  the  death  of  his  second 
wife,  in  1876,  there  will  remain  just  five  years  for  bring- 
ing all  to  a  conclusion,  finishing  wholly  or  very  nearly 
the  great  works,  lending  a  strong  hand  to  such  public  un- 
dertakings as  saving  London  Bridge,  adorning  S.  Paul's, 
rescuing  S.  Marco  at  Venice,  and  serving  on  the  council 
of  the  Royal  Academy.  Finally,  he  was  President  of 
the  Royal  Institute  of  British  Architects.  He  delivered, 
as  Professor  of  Architecture  to  the  Royal  Academy,  six 
lectures  on  Gothic  Architecture  in  the  spring  of  1881. 
Those  were  widely  read  at  the  time,  printed  in  the 
weekly  journal,  the  Builder,  as  they  were  delivered,  and 
in  the  Architect;  and  reprinted  by  his  son  as  an  ap- 
pendix to  the  Memoir.  In  that  same  year  he  died  and 
on  the  twenty-ninth  of  December  was  buried  in  West- 
minster Abbey.  He  was  only  fifty-seven  and  he  had 
been  ill  only  a  month. 

[27] 


With  Street's  actual  building  I  have  little  here  to  do. 
Immense  in  quantity,  admirable  in  kind,  it  stands  and 
long  will  stand,  not  only  amid  the  dense  green  of  English 
hedgerows  and  in  the  bitter  grime  of  English  towns, 
but  beside  the  graves  of  Alpine  valleys  and  in  the  Stran- 
ger's Quarter  of  continental  cities.  Of  its  technical  ex- 
cellence, the  way  it  meets  and  happily  resolves  the 
builder's  problems,  I  am  not  competent  to  speak.  Ar- 
chitects have  praised  him  well.  The  distinguished 
American  who  has  devoted  his  own  rich  and  exquisite 
talent  to  the  quest  of  Gothic,  tells  me  that  Street,  of 
them  all,  had  the  most  genius.  To  the  mere  ecclesiolo- 
gist,  who  comes  to  the  American  church  at  Paris,  or  the 
church  and  schools  of  S.  James  the  Less,  in  Westmin- 
ster, or  the  village  spire  of  Holmbury  S.  Mary,  it  seems 
that  if  new  churches  must  be  at  all,  they  should  be  thus. 
Where  Scott's  work  seems  colder  than  death  and  Butter- 
field's  trivial  or  thin,  Street's  alone  has  a  kind  of  present 
life,  a  pulse,  an  inner  glow.  It  is  again  the  abounding 
life  of  the  man  which  communicates  of  itself.  Many 
have  put  their  heart  into  their  work,  but  only  a  great 
heart  lives  and  burns  in  it. 

Of  architecture,  apart  from  technical  questions, 
structural  or  archaeological,  there  is  little  profitable  to 
be  said.  Like  the  other  arts  which  deal  directly  with 
bodily  experience,  it  suffers  from  the  necessity  of  trans- 
lating Into  an  alien  speech.  You  may  talk  about 
Shelley  forever,  since  poetry  is  made  of  words,  or  about 
Plato,  since  philosophy  is  made  of  ideas,  but  the  truest 
praise  of  the  Passion  according  to  St.  Matthew  is  reserved 
for  the  organ,  and  the  real  right  comment  on  any  Peru- 
gino  is  the  Granducal  Madonna.    Criticism  may  take  a 

[28] 


IN    LEON   CATHEDRAL 


lawful  pleasure  in  explaining,  first,  how  a  given  work  of 
art  came  to  be  what  it  is  —  which  is  matter  of  history; 
and,  second,  why  we  enjoy  it  as  much  ■  as  we  do,  — 
which  is  matter  of  psychology;  but  the  enjoyment 
itself  criticism  cannot  express  except  by  a  laborious 
process  of  transmutation  and  translation.  Of  all  the 
arts  architecture  is  least  apt  for  this  sort  of  evocation. 
Even  Pater  hardly  knows  that  song  to  which  the  mem- 
ory of  Chartres  would,  like  a  mist,  rise  into  towers, 
though  he  could  reweave  by  his  magic  the  very  spell  of 
Botticelli,  and  recall  with  his  subtle  harmonies  the  very 
presence  that  rose  so  strangely  by  the  waters  of  Leo- 
nardo. Those  who  have  lingered  at  nightfall  in  the  nave 
of  Chartres  until  through  mounting  darkness  the  blue 
windows  burned  as  by  their  own  proper  light,  may  know, 
some  of  them,  that  a  great  church,  like  the  deep  sea, 
like  the  ancient  woods,  like  the  starry  heavens,  can  lib- 
erate for  an  instant  the  soul  from  the  limitations  of  the 
conscious  intelligence.  But  even  if  a  man  would  tell  of 
that,  and  no  man  would,  there  are  no  words  for  the 
telling.  To  put  the  matter  anotherway: — the  experience 
of  music  is  a  matter  of  the  auditory  sensations  and  their 
recall  in  memory;  the  experience  of  painting  a  matter 
of  the  visual,  for  the  most  part;  that  of  architecture  is 
a  very  curious  combination  of  the  tactual  and  muscular 
with  certain  respiratory  and  vaso-motor  functions. 
Words,  in  each  of  the  cases,  are  at  the  second  and  third 
remove  from  the  actual  appreciation;  and  moreover 
architecture  shares  with  music,  except  where  figure- 
sculpture  enters  in,  the  supreme  condition  that  represen- 
tation merges  in  presentation,  that  form  and  content 
coincide. 

[29] 


The  love  of  thirteenth  century  France  flowered  in  the 
beauty  of  Street's  designing;  the  knowledge  of  Cata- 
lan city  churches  bore  fruit  in  the  frequent  use  of  the 
lofty  nave  arcade,  which  barely  marks  the  aisle  off, 
and  opens  all  the  church  to  sight  and  hearing  of  the 
preacher;  the  long  acquaintance  with  Italian  brick  con- 
struction led  to  his  perpetual  endeavour  by  bands  of 
colour  to  lighten  the  monotony  of  English  stone.  But 
marbles  under  a  southern  sun  will  fade  and  stain  and 
modulate  together,  where  other  material  and  other 
skies  will  not  effect  the  combination,  and  while  I  feel 
that  some  of  Street's  essays  in  colour  have  been  less 
happy  than  his  other  audacities,  I  feel  stronglier  yet  that 
the  fault  lies  more  with  the  material  at  hand  than  with 
the  shaping  spirit  of  imagination. 

He  is  supposed  to  have  been  at  his  best  in  designing 
middle-sized  churches  for  general  use,  like  All  Saints' 
at  Clifton,  and  S.  Margaret's,  Liverpool.  I  know  he 
felt  that  he  never  worked  more  to  his  own  mind  than 
when  he  built  his  own  church  at  Holmbury.  The  Ameri- 
can churches  in  Paris  and  Rome,  the  English  churches 
in  Rome  and  Genoa,  the  Anglican  churches  at  Lausanne, 
Vevey  and  Murren  are  all  his.  The  list  of  his  buildings 
published  in  his  son's  Memoir  stretches  from  Constan- 
tinople to  Trinidad.  I  notice  that  at  the  time  of  his 
death  some  called  the  new  nave  of  Bristol  cathedral  his 
most  entirely  successful  work.  That  may  in  a  way  be 
reckoned  as  restoration,  if  one  likes,  and  remain  equally 
characteristic,  for  Street  did  much  work  of  restoring,  and 
the  list  of  original  work  is  followed  in  the  Memoir  by  a 
longer  list  of  ancient  work  to  which  he  lent  a  reverent 
hand.    Against  any  restoration  but  the  most  reverent 

[30] 


he  protested,  both  generally  and  in  such  particular 
cases  as  that  of  the  Lincoln  doorways.  He  was  a  member 
of  Morris's  "Anti-scrape"  society,  though  once  at  least 
that  body  fell  foul  of  him.  The  mere  ecclesiologist  in 
this  case  is  again  disposed  to  admit  that  if,  to  keep  a 
church  above  ground,  some  restoration  must  be  done,  it 
had  better  be  in  such  hands  as  his. 

In  truth  all  the  best  work  of  Street  was  done  in  the 
spirit  and  in  the  terms  of  mediaeval  work,  as  the  best 
poetry  of  Morris  was  written.  Each  by  a  rare  chance 
found  himself  of  blood  kin,  born  to  the  same  language, 
gesture  and  emotion,  with  those  long  dead.  I  do  not 
know  that  Street's  church  building  was  ever  blamed  for 
not  being  of  its  own  age:  certainly  such  a  criticism 
would  be  peculiarly  unjust,  for  it  is  the  translation  into 
brick  and  stone  of  The  Christian  Year.  The  Tractarians 
and  Street  gave  their  lives  to  the  same  task,  and  they 
patched  up  their  churches  so  well  that  these  will  stand 
for  generations  yet. 

His  knowledge,  in  truth,  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
often  enough  made  a  reproach.  He  was  accused  by 
competitors,  by  church-wardens  and  committees,  by 
journalists  and  critics,  of  allowing  an  undue  influence 
over  his  work  to  foreign  styles.  No  one  would  be 
likely  now  to  hold  that  for  a  ground  of  grievance,  but 
the  charge  is  the  less  plausible  considering  how  early 
mature  were  both  the  man  and  his  workmanship.  It 
was  in  1850  that  he  went  to  the  Continent  for  the  first 
time,  already  knowing  his  England  well.  Rarely, 
thereafter,  he  let  a  year  go  by  without  crossing  the 
Channel,  and  often  he  added,  especially  in  later  life,  an 
autumn  or  a  winter  holiday.    There  would  be  interest  in 

[31] 


drawing  up  a  table  of  his  journeys,  if  one  could  be  made 
complete,  year  by  year,  and  in  supplying  from  letters 
and  diaries  his  fresh  impressions,  if  these  were  available. 
With  the  help  of  old  notebooks,  even  without  other 
material,  may  be  made  out  a  list  tentative  and  imperfect, 
indeed,  but  still  suggestive,  —  by  the  change  in  recur- 
rence, for  instance,  by  the  perpetual  discovery  of  fresh 
interest  on  ground  no  matter  how  familiar.  From  what 
he  saw  he  took  refreshment  and  suggestion,  never  pre- 
cisely a  model.  There  would  be  no  use  in  setting  off, 
against  the  table  of  his  travels,  a  table  of  his  buildings. 
These  were  the  growth  of  English  soil,  and  from  his 
masters,  the  cathedral  builders  of  France  and  Spain,  the 
masons  of  Germany  and  Lombardy,  he  asked  not  what 
they  did  but  how.  More  often,  the  direct  outcome  of 
travel,  the  transformation  of  observation  into  activity, 
was  not  the  high-reared  vault  but  the  written  word  — 
figuring  in  the  Ecclesiologist,  in  the  Transactions 
of  Diocesan  Societies  and  Architectural  Associations, 
in  the  Italian  and  the  Spanish  volumes,  and  in  at 
least  two  more  that  he  projected  but  did  not  live  to 
finish. 

Street  never  went  to  Greece  or  Russia,  nor,  I  think, 
to  Dalmatia.  The  Gothic  lands  he  loved,  there  his 
genius  renewed  its  mighty  youth.  For  him  as  for  the 
young  Pre- Raphael ites  in  1845  and  then  for  the  young 
Aesthetes  in  1855,  the  first  sight  of  a  great  French  church, 
say  of  Amiens,  marked  as  much  the  close  of  one  stage 
and  the  commencement  of  another,  as  if  they  all  had 
not  known  Westminster  and  York  Minster,  Iffley  and 
Fountains  Abbey;  as  if  they  were,  in  effect,  young 
Americans  fed  on  nothing  more  ancient  than  those 

[32] 


white  wood  pillars  of  a  front  porch,  that  rough-dressed 
stone  or  bluish  brick  of  a  central  square  with  flanking 
wings,  which  appear  in  our  earliest  and  only,  our 
"Colonial,"  style. 

If  one  is  tempted  to  press  the  American  parallel  in 
the  matter  of  enthusiasm,  as  the  only  one  adequate  to 
express  the  degree  of  it  and  the  surprise,  fresh  as  a  May 
morning,  irrevocable  as  falling  in  love  for  the  first  time, 
one  is  even  more  tempted  to  push  the  same  parallel  in 
the  matter  of  method  —  of  "doing"  churches  and 
"doing"  towns  at  an  incredible  rate.  Burne-Jones  and 
Morris  on  their  memorable  trip  arrived  at  Abbeville 
late  Thursday  night  after  a  Channel  crossing,  and  on 
Friday  had  an  hour  in  Amiens  cathedral  before  dinner 
and  stayed  there  afterwards  till  nine,  reached  Beauvais 
on  Saturday  and  went  to  Sunday  Mass  and  vespers, 
thence  on  to  Paris  the  same  night,  spent  sixteen  hours 
Monday  in  sightseeing,  and  had  only  three  days  there 
in  all  with  which  to  see  the  Beaux-Arts  exhibition,  the 
Cluny,  Notre  Dame,  the  Louvre,  and  hear  Le  Prophete. 
Thursday  and  Friday  they  gave  to  Chartres  —  a  longer 
time,  one  likes  to  remember,  than  they  spared  for  any 
other  cathedral.  So,  of  Street,  his  son  writes:  "  In  Sep- 
tember, 1850,  ...  in  ten  days  he  saw  Paris,  Chartres, 
Alengon,  Caen,  Rouen  and  Amiens,  sketching  all  the 
time  with  might  and  main."  That  would  be  a  fair 
record  now  for  any  but  the  shameless,  even  if  you  sub- 
stituted kodak  and  motor-car  for  sketch-book  and  in- 
frequent trains.  "In  the  summer  of  1851  three  weeks 
sufficed  to  make  him  acquainted  with  Mayence,  Frank- 
fort, Wurtzburg,  Hamburg,  Nuremberg,  Ratisbon, 
Munich,  Ulm,  [Constance],  Freiburg,  Strasburg,  Heidel- 

[33] 


berg,  [Cologne],  and  three  or  four  of  the  best  of  the 
Belgian  towns."  The  next  trip  was  his  wedding  tour 
and  reached  the  great  churches  of  what  might  be  called 
in  architecture,  conveniently,  the  Burgundian  March 
—  Dijon,  Auxerre,  Sens,  Troyes;  and  the  year  after  that, 
late  in  August,  the  pair  came  to  Italy.  The  things  done 
and  seen,  and,  even  more  the  things  thought,  in  some- 
thing like  five  weeks,  crammed  the  notebooks  and  bore 
fruit  in  a  volume  that  Murray  published  in  1855,  Brick 
and  Marble  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

The  first  thing,  and,  even  on  reflexion,  the  most  sur- 
prising, in  all  this  travel,  is  of  course  the  quality  and  the 
quantity  of  what  Street  did  in  his  vacations,  the  incred- 
ibly rapid  and  inconceivably  hard  work,  no  less  than  the 
enthusiasm  and  endurance  of  the  man.  The  labour,  in 
the  very  doing,  passes  into  creation.  Besides  the  great 
sketch-block  he  carried  a  leather-bound  luxurious  note- 
book or  two,  of  heavy  and  beautiful  paper,  some  five  or 
six  inches  by  eight,  and  thick  as  would  go  into  a  coat 
pocket,  in  which  he  put  down  alternately  sketches  and 
notes,  plans  and  measurements,  names  of  local  building- 
stone  or  extracts  from  a  parish  register,  and  occasionally 
a  memorandum  of  railway  trains  or  addresses  and  dates 
for  forwarding  letters.  These  worn  little  volumes  are 
evocative,  are  potent.  He  begins  sketching,  always, 
the  moment  he  reaches  the  Continent  and  keeps  it  up 
till  he  touches  the  Channel  again,  but  he  rarely  repeats 
a  subject  or  an  observation.  The  text  records  facts  and 
inferences,  judgements  and  estimates,  more  often  than 
impressions;  and  emotions,  I  think,  never.  The  draw- 
ings preserve  more  often  a  plan,  a  detail,  a  profile,  than 
a  facade  or  an  interior  —  in  short,  a  picture.    In  a  sense 

[34] 


everything  is  a  picture,  in  its  vitality  of  line  and  uner- 
ring selection.  For  the  rest,  the  great  views  of  ambula- 
tory and  transept,  west  front  and  apse,  were  done  on  a 
larger  sheet,  and  such  of  them  as  were  not  later  used  up 
or  given  away  still  preserve  in  books  the  itinerary  of 
the  successive  years.  Whoever  has  known  churches 
hitherto  by  photographs  only  will  turn  the  leaves  of 
these  with  strong  delight.  It  is  hard  ever  to  say  fully  why 
all  drawings  of  architecture  should  satisfy  more  than 
any  photographs,  and  these  overpass  comparison.  The 
camera,  after  all  cannot  see  around  a  corner  and  an 
artist  can. 

The  solar  print  is  a  dead  thing,  and  here  is  the  living 
line.  Street  can  afford,  with  great  economy  of  line, 
immense  vitality;  his  son  says  that  he  never  carried  an 
india  rubber  and  never  put  in  a  line  that  he  was  not 
sure  of,  and  on  the  pages  of  the  dusty  note-books  the 
line  lives  and  vibrates.  One  of  1874  may  open  at  a 
chapel  of  the  abbey  at  Vezelay  or  a  capital  from  the 
choir  arcade  of  Auxerre,  or  another  of  1860,  at  the 
church  of  Ainay  or  the  gateway  of  Nevers;  but  all 
the  work  of  all  the  years  is  interchangeable  in  respect 
of  firmness  and  life,  certainty  and  authority;  and  what 
you  see  on  the  page  is  not  merely  knowledge,  accuracy, 
dexterity,  it  is  genius.  The  quick  notes,  as  surely  as  the 
large  studies  and  the  great  original  designs,  show  never 
lack  of  it.  Architecture  is  a  craft,  a  thing  a  man  by  ap- 
plication can  learn,  like  journalism,  and  architectural 
drawings  may  be  merely  exact,  neat  and  compact,  and 
give  pleasure.  But  genius  is  like  the  grace  of  God  in  a 
man's  work,  it  is  all  in  all  and  all  in  every  part.  The 
vitality  of  the  line  in  sketching,  the  vitality  of  the  design 

[35] 


in  building,  are  the  outcome  of  it.  The  very  handwriting, 
rapid  but  neither  negligent  nor  meticulous,  is  as  much  a 
part  of  him  as  a  man's  hair. 

The  original  notes,  written  from  day  to  day,  are 
never  slight,  or  stupid,  or  cock-sure.  The  Brick  and 
Marble  volume  has  kept  their  fresh,  quick  finality. 
Thanks  in  part  most  likely  to  Modern  Painters,  land- 
scape in  the  early  journeys  counted  nearly  as  much  as 
cities.  Street  had  seen  the  Alps  in  1851  from  the  Lake 
of  Constance,  and  looked  at  them  and  stuck  to  his 
work.  The  next  year,  apparently,  he  visited  Switzerland 
with  his  wife  and  walked  up  as  many  as  possible.  On 
the  Italian  journey  two  years  later  he  literally  made  the 
most  of  the  mountains,  going  and  coming  —  through 
the  Rhineland  and  the  Vosges,  by  the  lakes  of  Zurich 
and  Wallenstadt,  down  the  canton  of  the  Grisons  and 
over  the  Splugen  to  the  lake  of  Como,  one  way,  and  the 
other  by  Lake  Maggiore  and  the  S.  Gothard,  climbing 
the  Furka  and  including  the  lake  of  Lucerne.  As,  on 
another  visit,  he  comes  down  through  the  Tyrol  by  Grau- 
enfels  and  the  Pustertal,  the  bare  hints  are  electrical, 
the  reader's  imagination  catches  fire.  In  this  first  book, 
the  landscape  gets  more  attention  than  ever  again  in 
print,  but  all  his  life  he  loved  a  mountain  about  as  well 
as  a  cathedral,  he  saw  the  Alps  as  often  as  Amiens.  His 
pencil  was  almost  as  often  and  as  happily  set  to  land- 
scape sketching  as  to  any  other;  it  caught  the  profile 
of  a  bluff  and  traced  the  swelling  and  subsidence  of  a 
mountain's  flank.  Now  that  in  the  pursuit  of  colour 
and  light  most  painters  have  abandoned  form,  and  sec- 
ond-rate Impressionists  are  content  to  let  a  landscape 
welter  in  blues  and  mauves  like  a  basket  of  dying  fish, 

[36] 


his  forcible  contours  and  cool  washes  awake  a  tingling 
of  reality. 

In  1854  he  went  to  Munster  and  Soest,  and  wrote  for 
the  Ecclesiologist  during  the  following  year  three  pieces 
on  the  architecture  of  northern  Germany,  besides 
another  for  the  Oxford  Architectural  Society.  Summary 
as  are  these  brief  and  practical  papers,  they  remain  still 
so  entirely  and  beyond  dispute  the  fullest  and  most  sug- 
gestive account  of  German  brick  work,  they  are  so  good 
to  steal  from  and  so  indispensable  as  adjuncts  to  Bae- 
deker, and  finally,  so  characteristically  foreshadow  and 
supplement  the  Spanish  volume,  that  they  are  reprinted 
bodily  in  the  appendix  here.  It  is  precisely  sixty  years 
since  they  were  written,  and  they  are  not  only  not  super- 
seded, they  are  still  unapproached.  Back  of  the  energy 
which  enabled  him  to  cover  a  vast  deal  of  ground  and 
never  miss  a  detail,  beyond  the  personal  acquaintance, 
and  not  mere  book-knowledge,  of  the  twelfth,  thir- 
teenth, fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  in  England, 
France,  Germany,  Switzerland,  Italy  (to  which  later  he 
was  to  add  Spain)  —  beneath  all  this  learning  lay  the 
happiest  instinct  for  what  was  either  first-rate  or  impor- 
tant or  both.  He  rarely  went  out  of  his  way  to  look  at  a 
church  that  was  not  worth  his  while,  he  rarely  failed  to 
look  at  every  church  in  a  town  that  would  repay  him. 
The  Memoir  quotes  a  letter  from  this  journey,  with  the 
characteristic  prelude,  "he  worked  hard,  as  he  always 
did,  up  early  and  in  late":  —  "  I  have  got  a  great  budget 
of  sketches;  indeed,  I  have  done  pretty  well,  for  in  a 
fortnight  I  have  mustered  about  fifty-five  large  sketches 
besides  filling  a  goodly  memorandum  book.  We  en- 
joyed  Lubeck   immensely,   and  amongst   other  feats 

[37] 


323185 


astonished  the  natives  by  making  rubbings  of  some 
magnificent  brasses,  of  which  Marique  did  her  share,  to 
the  delight  of  the  sacristan." 

His  interest  in  German  building  was  more  practical 
than  aesthetic;  he  found  suggestive  parallels  to  his  own 
problems  in  those  of  the  rich  merchant  cities,  set  down, 
often,  in  a  country  without  accessible  stone.  He  recurs 
a  dozen  times,  in  his  writings,  to  the  similar  solutions 
found  in  S.  Mary's  at  Barcelona  and  S.  Elizabeth's  at 
Marburg,  and  the  same  type  of  building  in  brick  de- 
veloped about  Lubeck  and  Saragossa,  Toulouse  and 
Cremona  —  in  the  great  plains  of  the  north  of  Germany, 
the  north  of  Spain,  and  the  north  of  Italy. 

Though  in  1855  he  took  no  summer  holiday,  he  went 
over  in  the  fall  to  see  the  designs  at  Lille  with  William 
Morris,  and  pushed  on  to  S.  Omer.  The  notebook  of 
that  journey  is  particularly  rich  in  detail,  both  personal 
and  architectural.  The  trip  supplied  material  for  pa- 
pers in  the  Ecclesiologist,  supplemented  by  another  two 
years  later,  through  Normandy,  the  Soissonnais  and  the 
German  border.  Even  to-day  when  that  country  has 
been  written  to  death,  ploughed  up  by  pedants  and 
harrowed  by  illiterate  motorists  and  photographers,  the 
papers  are  almost  too  good  to  leave  in  the  dust  of  old 
libraries,  with  their  tang  of  a  spring  morning  early 
enough  to  taste  of  frost.  The  notebook  still  is  more  than 
half  a  journal,  coloured  with  detail  not  so  irrelevant 
as  the  writer  fancied,  and  I  have  snatched  out  a  bit 
about  Laon  to  reprint.^ 

*  Since  these  words  were  written  that  country  has  seen  another 
harvest  time;  the  fields  have  been  ploughed  with  the  trenches  of 
armies  and  harrowed  by  the  bomb  and  bullet:  Street's  record  of 
what  men  saw  fifty  years  ago  has  grown  precious  for  us  who  shall 
never  see  it  more. 

[38] 


Far  more  brief  are  the  notebooks,  however,  of  1860, 
when  he  went  to  the  Bernese  Oberland  and  took  in  the 
country  that  lies  westward  from  Lyons  —  Le  Puy, 
Brioude,  Clermont-Ferrand,  Nevers,  —  and  many  of  the 
smaller  churches  of  that  curious  Auvergnat  type  which 
was  to  help  him  so  well  in  the  interpretation  of  Spanish 
Gothic  during  the  following  years.  There  are  sketches 
and  plans  aplenty,  with  the  scantiest  jottings  of  fact, 
and  then  a  few  fragments  of  bibliography;  lastly  terse 
notes  of  reading  done,  I  fancy,  in  Paris  on  the  way  home. 
These  served  for  an  essay  on  The  Churches  of  Velay, 
which  has  been  printed  twice  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Royal  Institute  of  British  Architects,  once  at  the  time, 
and  again,  long  after  his  death,  in  1889.  It  is  still  inac- 
cessible to  most,  and  I  reprint  it  once  more,  partly  for 
the  bearing  on  his  interpretation  of  Spanish  building, 
and  partly  because  I  know  nothing  better  on  Auvergne. 

Nothing  missed  him,  not  the  paintings  on  the  wall 
at  Brioude  nor  the  Liberal  Arts  on  the  pavement  at 
Ainay.  A  scrawled  road-map  on  one  page  would  be 
still  the  ecclesiologist's  best  guide  for  the  region.  The 
village  of  Monistrol  which  harbours,  thereabouts,  a  char- 
acteristic church,  and  to  which  he  refers  again  for  com- 
parison in  the  Spanish  volume,  is  not,  I  take  pleasure  in 
noting,  the  scene  of  the  first  meeting  with  Modestine. 
If  it  had  been,  you  should  not  know  from  Stevenson 
that  a  church  stood  thereby,  for  the  good  creature  had 
no  great  taste  in  churches,  and  though  the  Inland  Voy- 
age lay  through  a  cathedral  country,  small  good  was 
that  to  him. 

The  volume  shows  how  Street's  published  books 
were  made,  and  it  shows  furthermore,  what  any  other  of 

[39] 


these  little  leather  books  could  equally  illustrate,  how 
his  instinct  drove  straight  at  the  truth  and  needed 
from  documents  only  confirmation.    He  wrote  once: 

"  For  that  period  of  just  five  hundred  years  so  regular 
was  the  development  that  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
a  well-informed  architect  or  antiquary  ought  always  to 
be  able  to  give,  within  ten  or  at  most  twenty  years,  the 
date  of  any,  however  small  a  portion,  of  Mediaeval  ar- 
chitecture with  almost  absolute  certainty  of  being  cor- 
rect when  his  judgement  can  be  tested  by  documentary 
evidence." 

That  was  his  practice,  the  elan  of  his  own  judgement, 
as  certain  as  the  stroke  of  his  pencil,  which  other  archi- 
tects, of  other  nations,  have  delighted  to  honour. 

Senor  Lamperez,  in  his  great  book  on  Spanish  archi- 
tecture, bears  generous  and  graceful  witness  to  the  just- 
ness and  certitude  of  Street's  conjectures.  He  even  gives 
him  the  credit  of  finding  the  date  of  S.  Maria  at  Bena- 
vente,  now  known  to  be  1220,  though  in  point  of  fact 
Street  had  set  down  as  opinion  and  not  knowledge  that 
the  church  must  have  been  built  between  1200  and  1220. 
The  only  case  in  which  I  know  his  instinct  at  fault  is 
that  of  the  belated  churches  of  Galicia,  where  Roman- 
esque forms  persisted  sometimes  even  into  the  fifteenth 
century.  There,  knowing  few  dates  of  buildings  and 
fewer  of  builders,  he  hardly  estimated  them  enough  of 
laggards,  and  guesses  wrong  sometimes  by  a  century, 
or  nearly. 

Precisely  in  a  case  like  this,  where  an  unknown  con- 
dition vitiates  the  experiment,  one  sees  how  just  is  his 
method  and  how  right  in  all  but  the  actual  year  of 
our  Lord,  even  here,  is  the  outcome.    The  steady  judge- 

[40] 


ment,  the  wide  knowledge,  the  happy  divination,  which 
we  call  genius,  cannot  play  false.  While  the  saint, 
by  ancient  dogma,  cannot  sin,  the  foredamned  cannot 
do  right;  and  the  provincial-minded,  even  though  all 
the  data  lie  before  him,  is  foredoomed  by  his  campani- 
lismo  to  come  out  wrong.  It  is,  moreover,  a  trifle  un- 
grateful in  a  few  young  Spaniards  and  a  few  fretful 
Hispanophils  to  scold  at  Street,  for  he  was  the  best 
friend  and  the  most  practical,  outside  the  Peninsula, 
that  Spain  had  ever  had  —  not  forgetting  either  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  or  Murray's  Ford.  Let  me  quote 
again  Senor  Lamperez,  what  he  has  to  say  at  the  open- 
ing of  his  admirable  Historia  de  la  Arquitedura 
Espanola  Cristiana: 

"Two  foreigners  deserve  especial  place  and  mention  in 
this  survey,  the  English  Street  and  the  French  Enlart. 
Street  was  an  architect,  profoundly  versed  in  Christian 
art,  Gothic  in  chief;  he  had  studied  the  monuments  of 
it  all  over  Europe;  he  visited  Spain  and  before  her 
churches  he  sketched  and  took  notes  with  so  sure  a  vis- 
ion that  his  book  on  Gothic  Art  [sic]  in  Spain  has  come 
to  be,  if  I  may  say  so,  classic.  It  is  the  greater  pity  that 
Street  saw  of  Spain  only  one  very  small  part.  On  any 
count,  his  work  is  of  exceptional  importance.  His  text 
is  too  widely  known  for  me  to  need  to  analyze  it  here; 
suffice  it  to  say  that  his  method  is  based  on  a  technical 
study  of  each  building,  without  any  divagation  into 
poetic  descriptions  or  literary  lucubrations." 

Some  account  of  Gothic  Architecture  in  Spain,  pub- 
lished in  1865,  was  the  outcome  of  the  journeys  in 
1861,  '62  and  '63  and  (I  suppose)  of  two  more  summers 
spent  at  home  in  research  and  actual  composition  and 

[41] 


publication.    At  any  rate  I  find  no  record  of  autumn 
travel  in  '64  and  '65. 

It  is  hardly  fair,  in  truth,  for  Senor  Lamperez  to  say 
that  he  saw  only  a  small  part  of  Spain.  His  journeys 
covered,  geographically  speaking,  much  more  than  two- 
fifths  of  the  Peninsula,  and  archaeologically  speaking,  all 
the  best  of  the  Romanesque  and  Gothic,  both  Gallegan, 
Castilian,  and  Catalan.  What  he  missed  was  the  pre- 
Romanesque,  as  it  is  found  in  the  Asturias,  and  the 
true  Moorish,  i.e.  the  Asiatic  and  non-Christian.  If  he 
neglected  the  Mudejar  work  and  the  Renaissance  period, 
it  was  deliberately,  because  when  he  looked  at  them  he 
misliked  them.  The  real  difference  between  his  field  of 
labour  and  that  of  Sefior  Lamperez  consists  not  so  much 
in  the  latter's  possession  of  Estremadura  and  la  Mancha, 
Seville  and  the  south-east  coast,  as  in  his  fuller  knowl- 
edge and  more  minute  experience  of  the  northern  prov- 
inces. The  Castiles  and  Leon,  Galicia  and  Navarre,  and 
the  ancient  domain  of  the  kings  of  Aragon,  have  been 
examined  league  by  league  and  published  both  fully 
and  frequently,  since  1865.  The  peculiar  styles  which 
give  their  importance  to  the  regions  of  the  Biscay  shore 
and  the  Sierra  Morena,  the  Latin-Byzantine  of  Asturias 
and  the  Mohammedan  of  Andalusia,  are  special  phe- 
nomena and  must  always  be  treated  apart;  they  may 
therefore  at  need  be  omitted,  without  grave  loss,  from 
the  general  consideration  of  mediaeval  building  in  Spain; 
and  if  these  are  struck  out,  for  instance  from  the  lists 
of  Sefior  Lamperez,  there  will  remain,  as  the  significant 
monuments  and  the  important  regions,  precisely  those 
which  Street  had  already  treated.  Cuenca  and  Soria, 
Poblet  and  Ripoll,  Tuy  and  Orense,  Toro,  Jaca,  the 

[42] 


Seo  de  Urgel,  were  all  unvisited  and  other  churches 
yet;  but  the  list  is  not  long  nor  are  the  places  vastly 
important. 

Some  of  them,  if  it  must  be  known,  are  still  but  little 
studied;  and  with  all  the  fine  enthusiasm  of  Spanish 
architects,  and  societies  learned  and  popular,  treasures 
of  the  great  age  still  remain  unexplored.  Only  last 
summer  the  present  writer  rode  over  the  flank  of  a  hill  to 
salute,  all  unprepared,  a  superb  transitional  church  of  the 
thirteenth  century.  It  was  not  cathedral  nor  even  collegi- 
ate, but  mere  parroquia,  and  perhaps  the  finest  parish 
church  in  Spain:  —  and  it  is  even  to  this  hour,  so  far  as 
may  be  ascertained,  completely  inedite.  When  Street 
went  to  Santiago  he  was  much  in  the  same  case.  "  I  had 
been  able  to  learn  nothing  whatever  about  the  cathedral 
before  going  there,"  he  records,  with  ironic  amusement; 
"in  all  my  Spanish  journeys  there  had  been  somewhat 
of  this  pleasant  element  of  uncertainty  as  to  what  I  was 
to  find;  but  here  my  ignorance  was  complete,  and  as 
the  journey  was  a  long  one  to  make  on  speculation,  it 
was  not  a  little  fortunate  that  my  faith  was  rewarded 
by  the  discovery  of  a  church  of  extreme  magnificence 
and  interest." 

The  three  journeys  were  so  planned  as  not  only  to 
find  out  much  that  was  new  each  time  but  to  repeat  and 
verify  earlier  impressions.  With  his  usual  sobriety  he 
sets  down  the  itinerary  in  the  opening  pages: 

"In  my  first  Spanish  tour  I  entered  the  country  from 
Bayonne,  travelled  thence  by  Vitoria  to  Burgos,  Pa- 
lencia,  Valladolid,  Madrid,  Alcala,  Toledo,  Valencia, 
Barcelona,  Lerida,  and  by  Gerona  to  Perpifian.  In  the 
second  I  went  again  to  Gerona,  thence  to  Barcelona, 

[43] 


Tarragona,  Manresa,  Lerida,  Huesca,  Zaragoza,  Tudela, 
Pamplona,  and  so  to  Bayonne;  and  in  the  third  and  last 
I  went  by  Bayonne  to  Pamplona,  Tudela,  Tarazona, 
Siguenza,  Guadalajara,  Madrid,  Toledo,  Segovia,  Avila, 
Salamanca,  Zamora,  Benavente,  Leon,  Astorga,  Lugo, 
Santiago,  la  Coruna,  and  thence  back  by  Valladolid  and 
Burgos  to  San  Sebastian  and  Bayonne.  Tours  such  as 
these  have,  I  think,  given  me  a  fair  chance  of  forming 
a  right  judgement  as  to  most  of  the  features  of  Spanish 
architecture;  but  it  would  be  worse  than  foolish  to 
suppose  that  they  have  been  in  the  slightest  degree 
exhaustive,  for  there  are  large  tracts  of  country  which 
I  have  not  visited  at  all,  others  in  which  I  have  seen 
one  or  two  only  out  of  many  towns  which  are  un- 
doubtedly full  of  interesting  subjects  to  the  architect, 
and  others  again  in  which  I  have  been  too  much  pressed 
for  time." 

Street  is  too  modest  here:  his  acquaintance  with 
Spain  if  not  indeed  exhaustive,  like  that  with  France 
and  England,  is  entirely  representative;  and  however 
pressed  for  time,  he  never  scamps  his  work.  The  present 
writer  may  testify,  having  followed  his  tracks  with  an 
exact  piety  all  the  way,  that  he  exhausted  every  town. 
He  passed  through  Miranda  at  dawn,  but  he  described, 
classified  and  dated  the  church;  he  went  up  the  coast, 
from  Barcelona  to  Port  Vendres,  by  train,  but  he  saw 
more  churches  and  towers  than  the  careful  observer 
after  him.    He  continues: 

"Yet  I  hardly  know  that  I  need  apologize  for  my 
neglect  to  see  more,  when  I  consider  that,  up  to  the 
present  time,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  architect  has  ever 
described  the  buildings  which  I  have  visited  and  indeed 

[44] 


no  accurate  or  reliable  information  is  to  be  obtained  as 
to  their  exact  character,  age,  or  history." 

In  that  sentence  is  written  down  the  debt  Spain  owes 
to  Street. 

He  took  his  wife  on  the  first  journey  but  not  after- 
wards. She  was  both  patient  and  spirited,  but  it  was  a 
little  too  rough  for  a  lady.  His  own  endurance  and  good 
temper  are  unfailing,  and  infallible  his  sense  of  due  pro- 
portion. He  never  tells  you  what  was  for  dinner,  or 
how  the  bed  ailed,  or  when  he  quarrelled  with  the  land- 
lord. It  is  much  if  he  mentions,  in  a  sort  of  postscript, 
that  the  journey  to  Compostela  in  diligence  took  sixty- 
six  hours,  and,  elsewhere,  that  in  autumn  a  man  can  live 
largely  on  bread  and  grapes.  He  is  not,  like  Mr.  Hewlitt 
or  Mr.  Hutton  when  they  go  on  the  road,  writing  a  pi- 
caresque romance,  but  an  account  of  Gothic  architecture 
in  Spain.  The  structural  analysis  of  Santiago,  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  date  of  Avila,  the  appreciation  of  the 
Catalan  type  of  church-building  —  everyone  knows  that 
famous  parallel  with  "our  own  Norfolk  middle-pointed" 
—  such  passages  provoke  comparison  and  command 
praise,  for  substantiality  and  lucidity,  with  the  very 
best  of  writing  on  a  technical  subject.  The  dexterity 
with  which  he  singles  out  the  English  or  Angevine  ele- 
ments at  Las  Huelgas,  and  those  of  the  I sle-of- France 
at  Toledo,  and  signals  there  the  gradual  interpenetration 
of  local  influences,  has  the  happiest  certainty  and  the 
most  admired  ease.  It  is  hard  to  say  where  he  is  at  his 
best,  —  whether  in  dealing  with  a  style  like  the  Roman- 
esque of  Cluny  or  the  Gothic  of  Paris,  where  he  has  a 
vast  store  of  experience  long  accumulated,  and  makes 
comparisons  and  illustrates  distinctions  from  England  or 

[45] 


Italy  indifferently,  or  whether  coming  upon  fresh  matter 
like  the  domed  churches  about  Zamora  or  the  brick  build- 
ing around  Saragossa,  or  even  something  so  much  out 
of  his  line  as  the  Mudejar  work  scattered  about  in  the 
Castiles,  he  applies  reason  and  method  to  the  unknown, 
and,  arriving  at  conviction,  he  enforces  it.  Nothing 
could  be  more  succinct  and  more  satisfying  than  his 
dealing  with  the  dates  of  Don  Patricio  de  la  Escosura, 
in  Espana  Ariisticay  Monumental.  "I  see  no  reason," 
he  writes  easily,  "for  believing  that  the  plaster  decora- 
tions are  earlier  than  1350  or  thereabouts." 

Only  once  in  a  very  long  while,  a  slight  twist  or  tang 
of  perversity  relieves  the  even  good  sense  and  good 
taste.  Of  the  lovely  sepulchre  in  Avila  of  that  young 
brother  of  Joanna  the  Mad,  too  early  dead,  he  remarks 
that  the  great  tomb  "is  one  of  the  most  tender,  fine, 
and  graceful  works  I  have  ever  seen,  and  worthy  of  any 
school  of  architecture.  The  recumbent  effigy,  in  par- 
ticular, is  as  dignified,  graceful  and  religious  as  it  well 
could  be,  and  in  no  respect  unworthy  of  a  good  Gothic 
artist."  The  quaint  anti-climax  has  the  very,  sweet, 
gaucherie  of  a  woodcut  by  Rossetti  or  a  bit  out  of  Scrip- 
ture by  the  young,  unspoiled  Holman  Hunt.  We  have 
come,  since  that  could  be  said,  a  very  long  way. 

It  would  seem  that  he  finished  a  great  piece  of  work 
only  to  be  free  for  another.  When  he  had  published 
Brick  and  Marble  he  moved  to  London  and  went  in  for 
the  Lille  and  the  Government  House  competitions; 
when  he  had  published  Gothic  Architecture  in  Spain  he 
was  to  go  in  for  the  National  Gallery  and  the  Law 
Courts.  It  is  a  great  piece  of  work.  The  reading  it  im- 
plies, that  would  have  been  for  a  mere  student  no  trifle, 

[46] 


^ff\    Vfr 


If      \ ;'  'j  ! 


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i^p. 


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,1  I 


'11 


'^j^-^..    '/• 


ri 


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n  11,! 


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11^ 


THE  OLD  CATHEDRAL  OF  SALAMANCA 


was  done  by  a  professional  man  already  more  occupied 
than  most.  The  drawings  for  it  were  made  on  the  wood 
by  a  working  architect,  already  designing  for  his  own 
churches  every  several  moulding,  every  piece  of  iron- 
work, every  free-flowing  tracery.  Though  the  task  took 
all  he  had  to  spare  out  of  five  years  of  his  life,  that  was, 
after  all,  a  life  filled  with  other  and  more  important  in- 
terests; yet  the  proudest  nation  in  Europe  has  gone  to 
school  to  him.  Every  Spanish  ecclesiologist  knows  this 
book,  not  by  repute  only  but  by  heart.  Even  those  who 
disclaim  all  working  knowledge  of  English  have  the  vol- 
ume on  their  shelves  and  the  substance  of  it  in  their 
heads.  The  part  which  deals  with  Cataluna  has  been 
translated  into  Catalan  and  published  separately.  A 
Castilian  version  of  the  half-chapter  on  Valladolid,  with 
rich  and  appreciative  annotation  and  comment,  ap- 
peared in  the  Boletin  de  la  Sociedad  Castellana  de  Ex- 
cursiones  in  1898.  He  is  still  cited  as  a  final  authority. 
The  effect  of  it  was  to  teach  the  rest  of  Europe  that 
the  glory  of  mediaeval  Spain  endured;  that  one  could 
actually  see  something  south  of  the  Pyrenees,  neither 
Saracenic  nor  Jesuit,  a  great  religious  art  surviving, 
not  decadent,  not  moribund  nor  morbid  nor  corrupted 
by  the  gold  of  the  Indies,  strong,  virile,  spontaneous, 
the  expression  of  personal  independence  and  manly 
piety.  No  one  ever  packed  up  fewer  prejudices  in 
his  baggage,  no  one  ever  brought  out  more  truth.  On 
his  accounts  we  still  may  confidently  rely.  The  most 
important  truth  was,  of  course,  the  debt  to  France, 
which  Spanish  pride  still  at  times  shrinks  from  ac- 
knowledging. But  what  some  amiable  enthusiasts  are 
loth  to  admit  for  love  of  Spain,  and  others  less  amiable 

[47] 


are  fain  to  deny  for  a  grudge  against  France,  the  stones 
of  the  towns  cry  out  to  testify,  and  they  have  Seiior 
Lamperez  and  Don  Rafael  Altamira,  let  them  hear 
them  I  The  glory  of  Street  is  that  by  the  light  of  his 
intimate  knowledge  and  love  of  France,  he  saw  it 
fifty  years  ago.  To-day,  as  then,  his  is  the  one  book 
that  cannot  be  spared.  The  great  lover  of  Spain,  who 
set  himself,  on  the  first  journey  thither,  to  follow  in  the 
steps  of  the  Cid,  reckoned  also  on  planting  his  foot  in 
the  track  of  Street.  The  casual  traveller  writes  back 
to  London  for  a  copy  and  sits  down  by  the  way  for  it  to 
overtake  him.  It  is  the  best  companion  in  the  world, 
never  irrelevant,  or  peevish,  or  stodgy.  It  never  fails 
in  sensibility  to  exalted  beauty;  it  is  never  betrayed  into 
unction  and  the  professional  whine,  or  what  Swinburne 
once  called  rancid  piety.  The  English  sobriety  and 
good  breeding  just  sufficiently  are  leavened  with  enthu- 
siasm—  yet  that  temperate  admiration  was  really,  I 
suppose,  the  betrayal  of  an  inner  passion:  the  sound 
rule  of  faith  and  the  sober  standard  of  feeling  being 
again  in  play. 

With  the  National  Gallery  in  mind,  Street  had  gone 
abroad  in  1866  to  study  great  halls,  and  swept  a  wide 
round  through  Munich,  Vienna,  Prague,  Dresden,  Ber- 
lin, Hanover,  Hildesheim,  and  the  Belgian  towns.  The 
next  three  years  he  was  in  Italy,  and  after  the  war 
oftener  there  than  elsewhere,  coming  or  going  by  way  of 
the  Val  d'Aosta  or  the  Engadine,  the  Bernese  Oberland 
or  the  Austrian  Tyrol.  The  sad  summer  of  1871  he 
spent  in  Switzerland.  Street  could  not,  indeed,  have 
been  born  and  lived  and  died  in  England  in  the  Victorian 
age,  without  feeling  that  same  passion  for  high  moun- 

[48] 


tains  which  makes  so  touching  the  letters  of  Meredith, 
in  whom  it  was  thwarted  perpetually,  and  so  inspires 
the  letters  of  Leslie  Stephen,  for  whom  it  seems  to  have 
supplied  a  source  of  spiritual  regeneration.  The  two 
Stephens,  Tyndall,  Clifford,  Arnold  and  the  rest  of  that 
strong  mid-century  race  that  broke,  most  of  them,  with 
the  church,  and  repudiated,  all  of  them,  religion  as  by 
law  established,  found  literally  in  the  Alps  a  substitute 
for  God.  Street  was  able  to  keep  God  and  the  Alps  too — 
since  "all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you." 

In  1874  he  published  a  second  edition  of  Brick  and 
Marble,  augumented  by  notes  gathered  in  journeys  as 
far  back  as  1857.  Both  editions  have  long  been  out  of 
print.  It  would  be  a  good  work  if  the  ancient  house  of 
Murray  would  republish  it,  for  the  author's  most  fan- 
tastical reactions  against  Palladio  cannot  affect  —  shall 
I  say,  its  solid  worth?  Accurate  observation,  close  and 
careful  description,  knowledge  that  can  read  into  every 
detail  its  implications,  would  make  the  dullest  book 
indispensable  for  reference,  and  this  runs  lightly  as  a 
traveller's  tale.  You  are  surprised  when  you  find  how 
few  of  the  books,  with  pictures  and  without,  that  every 
year  unloads  on  the  subject  of  Italy,  give  any  substan- 
tial information  beyond  the  hotel  door-step.  Upon  my 
faith,  every  author,  from  the  venerable  Mr.  Howells  to 
the  diligent  Mr.  Button,  will  run  on  and  on  discoursing 
most  excellent  music  —  but  if  you  would  know  what  a 
church  really  looks  like,  without  or  within,  he  is  not 
your  man.  Forms  shift  and  dyes  mingle  in  their  de- 
scriptions as  in  sunset  clouds.  Mr.  Pennell  will  turn 
you  off  a  wonderful  portfolio  of  pictures,  each  worthy 
to  be  framed  and  glazed  and  hung  on  the  wall,  but  if 

[49] 


// 


the  church  be  Gothic  or  pomafnesque,  if  the  square  be 
classic  or  baroque,  who  cih  say?  If  you  need  to  know, 
down  comes  the  shabby  Street  from  the  shelf,  and  after 
you  have  consulted  the  page  and  the  drawing  you  may 
have,  belike,  more  than  the  author  had  when  he  set  down 
what  he  saw.  His  son  notes  somewhere  that  on  refer- 
ring to  an  old  landscape  sketch  they  found  accurate 
record  of  details  they  had  not  known  till  later:  so  truly 
does  truth  stand  by  her  lovers. 

Meanwhile  he  had  planned  the  companion  volume  on 
central  and  southern  Italy,  to  which  he  refers  in  the 
preface.  It  is  a  sad  pity  he  could  not  have  found  the 
time  nor  the  heart  to  write  this,  for  with  it  in  mind  he 
pushed  as  far  in  1873  as  Ancona,  Lucera  and  Benevento. 
The  MS.  notebook,  I  fear,  has  perished  which  should 
have  gone  with  a  square  thick  book  of  sketches  more 
than  usually  stimulating  and  lovely.  The  choir  of  the 
S.  Chapelle  at  Chambery  shows  the  way  he  went;  then 
plans  of  S.  Ciriaco,  at  Ancona,  the  crossing  and  dome 
seen  from  the  nave,  the  south  porch,  the  eastern  and 
western  apses,  with  a  tenderly  faithful  drawing  of  the 
innumerably-arcaded  front  of  S.  Maria,  imply  the  kind 
of  close  study  that  culminates  in  a  book.  Had  he  but 
followed  up  his  observations  there  and  elsewhere,  at 
Lucera  for  instance,  where  he  recorded  not  only  the 
cathedral  and  the  castles,  but  a  whole  group  of  churches 
and  a  cluster  of  castles  that  front  the  Adriatic  coast 
thence  southward;  or  at  Foggia,  where,  with  a  sketch 
of  the  fagade  of  the  cathedral  and  a  separate  study  of 
the  most  characteristic  Pisan  and  Pistojan  traits  he 
fairly  underlined  the  relation  and  suggested  Troja  to 
a  surprising  degree;  —  had  he  merely  knotted  up  the 

[SO] 


syllogisms  that  he  laid  out  ready  on  the  page,  and 
written  his  Q.  E.  D.,  then,  beyond  a  question,  from 
his  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Royal  Domain  he  would 
have  made  out  and  declared,  here  as  in  Spain,  the 
determining  influence  of  northern  France,  and  antici- 
pated the  thesis  of  M.  Bertaux.  That  would  have 
been  such  another  triumph  as  the  Spanish  volume, 
for  English  intelligence  and  English  taste.  But  in  these 
Christmas  holidays  of  1873  he  snatched,  as  the  train 
passed,  a  castle  at  Recanati  and  a  portal  at  Giulianuova, 
then  from  Foggia  made  a  great  leap  to  Salerno,  and  ended 
for  the  nonce  with  careful  detailed  drawings  of  the  am- 
bons  and  towers  throughout  the  wonderful  Salernitan 
group,  at  Amalfi  and  Ravello  and  Scala. 

Year  after  year  he  went  back  to  the  south-west  coast 
in  winter;  in  1874,  after  his  wife's  death,  spending  Christ- 
mas with  her  father  as  usual,  going  down  by  the  Riviera 
and  coming  back  by  Florence  and  the  Brenner,  It  is 
this  year,  I  fancy,  that  we  may  thank  for  a  record  of 
Spoleto  cathedral  before  the  restorers  had  it,  for  a 
series  of  notes  in  the  Umbriah  towns,  and  for  another 
series  of  the  churches  of  Asti. 

This  was  all  familiar  ground,  of  course,  to  him.  The 
MS.  notes  on  central  Italy  belong  mostly  to  a  journey 
to  Florence  made  in  1857,  reinforced  by  another,  in  1872, 
that  carried  him  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Rome.  Of  these 
notes  I  am  reprinting  not  a  little:  in  part  because  such 
analysis  as  that  of  Assisi  is  profounder  than  any  that 
has  been  written  since:  in  part  because  such  comment 
as  that  on  Siena  and  Orvieto  if  not  palatable  is  yet  salu- 
tary even  to  those  who  have  learned  to  love  the  Tuscan 
Gothic.    Of  Florence,  others  have  written  more  elo- 

[51] 


quently  though  not  with  more  sincerity.  To  the  MS.  of 
the  Florence  episode  the  privileged  reader  will  turn  with 
keen  curiosity  indeed,  but  without  apprehension,  to  learn 
how  Street  felt  about  Donatello  and  the  primitives, 
having  the  assurance  beforehand  that  he  will  not  like 
the  wrong  thing.  If  one  has  to  forgive  Shelley  the  tink- 
ling guitar  of  Jane,  and  to  forgive  Browning  the  thick 
legs  of  Guercino's  Guardian  Angel,  and  both  an  occa- 
sional lapse  upon  Guido  Reni,  Street  wants  no  allowance 
made.  His  taste  is  hardly  out  of  date,  even  yet.  His 
friends  at  home  had  always  been  the  young  painters, 
his  house  in  London  held  not  only  some  good  pieces  of 
theirs  but  some  early  Italian  panels  and  tondi. 

Inevitably  he  transposed  his  taste  in  architecture 
bodily  into  painting:  Giotto  and  Fra  Angelico  are  sure 
of  his  liking,  so  usually  are  their  pupils;  but  Donatello's 
S.  George  is  "a  poor  knock-kneed  figure,  and  no  one  of 
the  statues  [at  Or  San  Michele]  comes  near  the  early 
French  figures  in  any  way."  Well,  recalling  the  S. 
George  on  the  south  porch  of  Chartres,  on  what  ground 
shall  one  dispute  that? 

Not  merely  the  dates  that  Street  will  like  may  be  fore- 
seen, but  the  intellectual  attitude  and  spiritual  style: 
as  he  cared  little  for  the  architecture  of  the  Renaissance, 
he  will  care  no  more  for  the  masters  of  chiaroscuro, 
and  the  baroque  style  he  will  feel  equally  distasteful 
in  the  two  arts.  Lastly,  his  abiding  love  for  Perugino 
and  Francia  is  utterly  in  keeping  with  his  Anglican 
faith;  it  recalls  the  very  tone  of  the  boyish  letter  about 
Lanercost. 

"It  is  particularly  characteristic  of  Lanercost  that  all 
is  in  harmony,  every  portion  seems  designed  upon  the 

[52] 


same  principle  and  witl\jyie  same  amount  of  reverential 
feeling,  and  all  is  so  simple  as  to  indicate  truth  and 
solidity  and  the  absence  of  gaudy  and  hypocritical  re- 
ligion. I  dare  say  you  have  smiled  at  the  way  I  come 
at  architecture  and  religion,  it  may  perhaps  be  the  bias 
of  a  profession  which  makes  me  do  so,  but  I  cannot  but 
think  that  architecture  as  well  as,  not  more  than,  the 
other  fine  arts,  is  a  great  and  most  important  assistant 
to  religion.  Again  in  the  matter  of  abbeys,  I  know  there 
will  be  an  outcry  when  you  read  my  journal  [_if  we  could 
but  read  that  journal  !~\  against  my  admiration  of  them 
and  their  system;  but  when  I  lament  their  destruction 
I  lament  it  because  I  venerate  the  men  who  founded 
them." 

Rome  he  never  cared  for  so  much  as  Tuscany  and 
Umbria,  that,  too,  being  temperamental.  In  the  early 
weeks  of  1876,  after  his  second  marriage,  upon  making 
the  usual  visit  to  Naples  he  came  back  by  Rome  again, 
taking  the  time  from  his  business  to  see  Subiaco,  Albano, 
Palestrina,  and  Frascati.  The  brief  wedding  journey, 
when  almond  trees  must  have  been  in  flower  all  the  way, 
though  it  was  to  end  so  cruelly  in  a  Roman  fever,  had 
begun  in  a  strong  fresh  flow  of  happiness  that  found  out- 
let in  a  set  of  MS.  notes  on  Amalfi.  That  is  the  last  bit 
of  writing  which  I  can  trace  that  is  not  strictly  exacted 
by  the  circumstances  of  his  profession. 

Occasionally  always,  when  something  called  for  it,  he 
had  written  an  open  letter  or  a  brief  pamphlet  of  protest 
or  vindication.  Like  all  men  of  strong  creative  imagina- 
tion, Street  cared  more  for  doing  than  for  undoing.  He 
was  not  a  man  of  war,  but  he  was  a  good  fighter  when  the 
issue  was  clear  and  the  charge  laid  upon  him.    Having 

[53] 


taken  part  in  the  stormy  competition  over  Edinburgh 
cathedral  in  1872,  he  said  forcibly  during  the  proceedings, 
in  the  name  of  the  English  architects  engaged,  that  the 
award  did  not  comply  with  the  conditions.  As  finally 
made  it  complied  less  than  ever,  and  thereafter  he  said 
nothing.  It  was  a  hurt  and  he  held  his  peace.  Some 
other  great  controversies  in  which  he  was  engaged,  fell 
later  and  lasted  longer.  One's  own  opinion  to-day  is 
apt  to  sustain  Street.  In  the  matter  of  the  younger 
Scott's  restoration  at  S.  Albans  the  work  was  generally 
challenged  and  came  out  unsatisfactory;  in  that  of  his 
own  dealing  with  the  Fratry  at  Carlisle,  he  felt  himself 
at  liberty,  in  the  face  of  late  and  ugly  alterations,  to  re- 
place and  piece  out  such  fragments  of  the  original  work 
as  he  found  embedded  in  the  building;  in  that  of  re- 
adapting  to  general  and  cathedral  use  the  Minster  at 
Southwell,  his  proposal  respected  the  visible  indications 
of  the  architecture.  The  present  writer,  being  at  South- 
well not  long  ago,  had  contrived  to  make  out  by  mother 
wit,  from  the  signs  of  vault  and  arcade,  of  structure  and 
carved  decoration,  just  such  intentions  as  Street,  it  ap- 
pears, presumed.  His  superb  scheme  for  rearranging  S. 
Paul's,  with  the  altar  under  a  great  baldachin  at  the 
crossing,  stood  no  chance  of  liking  because  it  ignored  the 
average  English  habit  of  mind,  it  made  religion  splendid 
and  brought  it  near.  Now  the  English  like  their  religion 
chilly  and  infrequent  and  a  long  way  off.  His  stubborn 
adherence  to  Gothic  for  all  uses  may  have  cost  him  the 
award  for  the  National  Gallery,  and  cost  England  a 
new  and  intelligible  building  in  place  of  that  which  still 
survives.  Street's  plan  would  have  brought  forth,  in  a 
way,  something  not  so  unlike  in  effect,  while  quite  dif- 

[54] 


ferent  in  style,  to  the  Boston  Public  Library,  stately 
and  gracious,  a  pleasure  to  the  passer-by,  adapted  not 
only  to  its  use  but  to  its  dignity.  The  question  of  Gothic 
with  him  was  not  only  a  matter  of  conscience,  it  was 
more,  a  matter  of  temperament:  all  his  life,  all  his  relig- 
ion, the  very  fibres  of  his  body,  were  strung  to  that  inter- 
play of  thrust  and  strain,  were  tuned  to  that  upward 
reaching  of  the  mountain's  heart  toward  God.  He  could 
not  otherwise.  The  battle  of  the  Law  Courts  echoes  still, 
though  faintly,  in  Englishmen's  depreciation  and  guide- 
books' disapproval.  The  great  pile,  notwithstanding, 
in  every  aspect  is  noble,  and  the  question  must  turn 
merely  on  the  style.  Modern  Gothic  granted  at  all, 
little  can  be  said  against  it,  and  if  the  sixties  and  seventies 
of  the  last  century  had  not  used  modern  Gothic,  what 
else  could  they  have  used?  It  seems  unlikely  that  the 
new  Law  Courts  in  New  York  will  be  better,  built  on 
the  plan  of  the  Colosseum. 

That  work  was  to  outlast  his  life.  Meanwhile  pri- 
vate commissions  did  not  fall  off  and  ecclesiastical 
appointments  multiplied.  At  Oxford  he  had  long 
been  diocesan  architect;  and  he  held  somewhat  the 
same  relation  to  the  cathedrals  of  York,  Ripon, 
Winchester,  Gloucester,  Salisbury  and  Carlisle.  With 
all  this  he  had  building  of  his  own  in  which  to  take 
delight.  In  1872  he  bought  land  at  Holmbury,  near 
Dorking,  and  made  himself  a  garden  there  and  in 
time  a  house,  lastly  a  church. 

The  country  is  there  of  very  ancient  occupation, 
essential  England.  The  buxom  contour  of  the  hills, 
the  generous  leafage  of  the  woods,  are  richer  than  else- 
where.   The  lawns  are  springy  with  delicate  turf  of  grass 

[55] 


fine  like  hair,  the  close  hedges  taller  than  a  man,  the 
stocks  and  gillyflowers  heavy-scented,  the  dahlias  and 
snapdragons  dark-hued  and  gold-dusted.  From  the 
ridge  the  eye  can  range  —  but  the  English  landscape 
needs  an  English  pen. 

"The  house  he  decided  to  place  on  a  brow,  with  a 
terrace  running  all  along  its  front,  the  whole,  or  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  garden  being  disposed  in  the  hollow 
below.  A  certain  formal  effect  had  been  obtained  by 
sunk  rectangular  lawns  and  banks.  As  the  views  to  the 
south-east  and  the  south  were  almost  equally  good,  he 
planned  the  house  in  two  wings,  forming  an  obtuse  angle 
one  with  the  other  ;^  one  facing  southeast  and  the  other 
full  south  over  the  sunken  garden  .  .  .  Below  the  hill 
the  ground  swept  down  in  an  amphitheatre  open  at  one 
end  to  give  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  distance  seen  over  a 
bit  of  park-like  foreground,  whilst  above  it  rose  one 
spur  behind  another  of  the  near  hills,  clothed  with  juni- 
pers and  grand  bushes  of  holly,  and  over  them  again 
the  farther  edge  of  the  hill  crowned  with  masses  of 
dark  firs." 

He  had,  as  he  maintained  the  architect  should  always 
in  truth  have,  a  right  judgement  in  all  things,  interior 
decoration  as  well  as  structure,  secular  and  domestic 
detail  as  well  as  ecclesiastic.  When  he  had  thought  of 
giving  up  the  house  in  Cavendish  Square  a  friend  "told 
me  he  never  saw  so  charming  a  room  as  this  drawing- 
room  and  he  was  rejoicing  that  I  could  not  leave  it  just 
now  —  nearly  every  one  seems  to  be  of  the  same  mind. 
...  All  my  happiest  associations  are  with  these  rooms 

1  Your  man  of  genius  has  run  ahead  of  fashion  by  forty  years. 
This  description  reads  like  the  account  of  a  house  finished  last  week 
somewhere  up  the  River  or  on  the  Main  Line. 

[56] 


GEORGE   EDMUND  STREET   IN   1877 


and  I  begin  to  think  I  should  be  less  happy  anywhere 
else." 

He  was  to  need  the  happiness  of  associations.  The 
work  begun  and  carried  out  by  the  nest-building  instinct, 
that  faculty  which  shapes  after  one's  own  desire  a  shel- 
ter for  one's  own  kind  and  kin,  was  to  prove  a  solace  for 
grief  at  the  last.  His  wife  had  died  in  1874;  two  years 
later  Street  married  "a  lady  who  had  been  of  all  my 
mother's  friends  the  most  highly  prized,  and  had  been 
so  intimate  with  us  as  to  have  been  her  companion  on 
many  of  our  foreign  tours"  —  her  step-son  writes.  It 
is  typical  of  the  homing  breed,  of  the  instinct  that  holds 
in  the  old  paths,  to  rebuild  with  the  least  possible  of 
novelty,  and  recommence  without  snapping  one  of  the 
old  threads.  The  blind  impulse  of  solidarity  finds  its 
wants  in  the  ancient  walks,  the  ancient  intimacies,  the 
ancient  affections. 

Mrs.  Street  lived  only  eight  weeks  after  her  marriage. 
Thereafter  Street  kept  men's  company  mostly.  He  had 
for  friends  all  that  was  most  living  in  London,  the  Ros- 
settis  and  Holman  Hunt,  George  Boyce  and  J.  W. 
Inchbold,  William  Bell  Scott,  Madox  Brown,  Morris 
and  Burne-Jones.  That  enfant  terrible  of  the  last 
generation,  Mr.  Ford  Madox  Hueffer,  has  probably 
reminiscences  of  him.  He  had,  before  all,  his  son,  who 
on  quitting  Oxford  came  up  to  work  under  him;  he  had 
his  associates  in  his  own  profession  and  in  the  Royal 
Academy.  In  that  last  year  he  made  a  tour  with  Arthur 
Street  among  the  German  cities,  but  the  drawings  that 
could  date  it  are,  few,  and  one  of  the  latest  notebooks 
passes  within  a  few  leaves  from  pulpits  in  southern 
Italy  to  the  landscape  around  S.  Gervais.    Thither  he 

[57] 


f  ^ 


// 

had  gone  in  the  autumn  to  take  the  waters:  "he  was 
troubled  more  or  less  by  headache  the  whole  time,  but 
he  did  a  good  deal  of  walking  and  sketching  in  spite  of 
very  bad  weather."  That  was  in  September.  The  stroke 
fell  on  him  the  middle  of  November;  then  he  was  better, 
was  planning  a  long  journey  in  Egypt.  On  December 
18  he  was  dead.  The  tireless  energy  never  knew  a 
real  abatement.  He  lies  in  the  nave  of  the  Abbey  as 
Pierre  de  Montereau  lies  in  S.  Germain-des-Pres,  and 
in  Rheims  Robert  de  Coucy. 

It  is  not  a  long  life  as  you  count  it  over:  five  years 
with  Scott  and  Moffatt;  five  in  and  near  Oxford;  twenty 
years  in  London  of  triumphant  work;  then  five  of  hon- 
ours like  the  pause  at  flood-tide,  and  never  the  ebb. 
Like  such  a  great  river  as  that  he  knew  so  well  and  fre- 
quented all  his  days,  his  life  flowed  steadily  and  strongly, 
the  brimming  stream  augmenting  always,  deepening 
and  widening,  the  heavier  current  moving,  at  the  end, 
more  slowly  but  not  through  slackening  of  power, 
until,  at  the  last  turn,  the  majestic  estuary  opens  and 
broadens,  as,  with  no  hurry  of  fretting  waves,  no 
straining  through  silted  sandbanks,  undiminished,  the 
mighty  mass  of  waters  mingles  with  the  sea. 


[58] 


NOTES  OF   A  TOUR    IN   CENTRAL  ITALY  TO 

WHICH    ARE   APPENDED   A    FEW   NOTES 

FROM  A  LATER  TOUR 


II 

NOTES  OF  A  TOUR   IN  CENTRAL  ITALY 
{From  a  notebook  oj  1857) 

August  20, 1857. 

LEFT  town  at  8.30  p.m.  by  South-Eastern  Railway 
for  Folkstone.    A  close  push  for  it,  as  I  was  an 
unwilling  auditor  of  Lord  Riverdale  in  the  House 
of  Lords  till  7  p.m.      I  then  had  a  conference  with  the 
Bishop  of  Oxford. 

I  left  them  to  settle  if  possible  the  Divorce  question 
and  rushed  home  just  in  time  to  pack  and  be  off.  A 
very  quiet  passage  over  to  Boulogne  was  seconded  by  a 
weary  hour's  waiting  at  the  station  before  the  train 
started. 

We  reached  Paris  at  9.10  and  drove  to  the  Hotel  de 
VEurope  and  then  wandered  about  for  the  day  seeing 
sights.  Tried  for  but  could  see  no  good  MSS.  Drove  to 
the  Bois  de  Boulogne  and  went  to  the  Pre  Catalan,  for 
which  I  cannot  say  much.  By  dint  of  watering  the  grass 
vigorously  they  get  it  to  look  very  green,  but  it  is  coarse 
stuff,  more  like  a  water  meadow  in  texture  than  an 
English  lawn.  The  Pre  Catalan  without  a  soul  in  it  ex- 
cept the  show  men,  etc.  eating  at  fresco  dinners,  is  rather 
slow,  so  we  came  back  soon.  In  the  afternoon  went  to 
the  Hippodrome.  The  best  thing  probably  was  the  rac- 
ing between  three  men  each  riding  a  four-in-hand  and 
going  at  a  great  pace.  Dined  at  V^four's  and  then  off 
to  the  station,  and  in  a  rash  moment,  and  in  submission 

[61] 


to  the  peremptory  order  of  a  grand  railway  clerk,  booked 
ourselves  through  from  Paris  to  Turin.  The  train  was 
very  full  but  I  rested  tolerably  well  and  awoke  in  the 
morning  just  in  time  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  cathedral  at 
Tournus.^  At  Macon  we  changed  to  another  train  and 
crossing  the  Saone  turned  off  toward  Geneva;  the 
country  invisible  in  a  thick  fog  till  we  reached  Am- 
berieu,  the  junction  with  the  line  from  Lyons,  where  it 
rose  sufficiently  to  disclose  an  exceedingly  picturesque 
situation.  From  this  point  up  to  Culoz,  where  we  left 
the  line,  the  country  is  very  wild  and  beautiful.  The 
railway  runs  up  a  very  narrow  winding  valley  hemmed 
in  with  grand  hills,  showing  here  and  there  fine  bold 
bluffs  of  rock.  The  stream,  a  mountain  torrent,  was 
nowhere  —  but  wide  banks  of  well-worn  stones  show 
that  it  is  powerful  enough  after  rain  or  in  the  winter 
and  spring.  At  Culoz  we  embarked  on  a  long  and  very 
shaky  steamboat,  the  "Coquette,"  and  going  stern  fore- 
most a  half  mile  down  the  rapid  Rhone  (here  a  dirty  white 
colour)  we  finally  turned  out  of  it  into  a  sort  of  canal 
which  connects  the  Lac  du  Bourget  with  the  Rhone. 
Our  steamer  was  so  long  that  in  getting  along  we  invari- 
ably just  touched  land  at  one  end  and  occasionally  at 

1  Note  from  the  sketch-book:  Tournus  has  a  fine  Romanesque 
church  with  one  complete  and  one  unfinished  steeple  at  the  west 
end  and  another  complete  steeple  on  the  north  side  in  about  the 
position  (I  think)  of  a  transept.  These  two  steeples  have  two  ar- 
caded  stages  of  about  equal  height  above  the  roof  and  are  finished 
with  square  tiled  spires  in  a  very  characteristic  manner.  (These 
square  spires  seem  to  be  of  very  frequent  occurrence  in  this  district.) 
Just  in  front  of  the  church  are  two  round  towers  which  seem  to  form 
a  gateway  and  the  space  between  the  western  steeples  of  the  church 
is  finished  horizontally  with  a  crenelated  parapet  on  a  machicoulis 
—  the  battlements  pierced  with  openings  of  this  kind  >i*  —  the  whole 
looks  as  though  done  with  a  view  to  defence. 

[62] 


both,  but  by  dint  of  great  energy  in  the  steering  and  by 
aid  of  men  who  ran  along  the  bank  to  push  us  off,  we 
were  safely  discharged  into  the  lake.  The  water  here  is 
of  the  blue  green  which  one  remembers  at  Geneva.  The 
banks  are  precipitous  and  the  lake,  though  not  very  large, 
very  pretty.  The  Dent  du  Chat  on  the  south-west  is 
a  fine  hill,  and  the  high  bold  hill  above  Culoz  stands 
out  to  great  advantage  over  the  immense,  perfectly 
flat,  meadow  which  occupies  the  space  between  the 
Rhone  and  the  lake,  and  which  to-day  is  full  of  hay- 
makers, —  I  should  say  some  two  or  three  hundred  — 
all  hard  at  work.  We  embarked  at  a  temporary  kind  of 
port  called  S.  Innocent  and  went  thence  by  railway  to 
Chambery.  Here  we  stopped  for  five  hours  to  see  the 
cathedral,  wash  and  eat.  The  cathedral  is  of  small 
interest.  Its  flamboyant  west  front  is  fairly  good  of 
its  kind.  On  the  whole  the  church  wants  dignity,  and 
gives  the  impression  of  a  parish  church  more  than  of  a 
cathedral.  The  castle  which  rises  above  the  west  side 
of  the  town  has  not  much  old  remaining.  The  chapel 
is  poor  flamboyant  with  some  good  stained  glass  in  the 
apse.  The  king  has  a  fine  papered  and  cushioned  gallery 
at  the  west  end.  I  looked  into  one  or  two  other  churches 
but  found  no  old  features. 

The  situation  of  Chambery  is  exquisite.  It  is  hemmed 
in  on  all  sides  by  mountains,  and  their  outlines  are 
generally  unusually  sharp  and  bold,  finishing  as  many  of 
them  do  with  great  bluffs  of  rock.  A  figure  resting  on 
the  fore-quarters  of  four  elephants  who  spout  water  from 
their  trunks  is  the  most  remarkable  modern  feature  in 

the  city.    It  is  to  the  memory  of  General S  a  great 

1  General  de  Boigne,  d.  1830.  —  G.  G.  K. 
[63] 


benefactor.  The  streets  contain  few  old  houses:  I  saw 
one  of  the  sixteenth  century  nearly  all  windows.  The 
fronts  of  the  shops  have  the  old  arrangement  of  a  stone 
arch  the  whole  width  of  the  front  and  a  bold  stone 
counter. 

We  left  Chambery  at  5.30  p.m.  for  S.  Jean  de  Mauri- 
enne.  The  scenery  as  long  as  we  could  see  it  was  beau- 
tiful, but  the  clouds  were  low  and  at  the  point  where 
Mont  Blanc  ought  to  have  been  seen  they  effectually 
prevented  our  seeing  anything.  At  S.  Jean  we  took  pos- 
session of  the  diligence  for  Turin  and  saw  nothing  till 
we  were  well  up  on  the  mountain  from  Lons-le-Bourg. 
It  took  us  two  hours  to  scale  this  height,  pulled  at  a  slow 
pace  by  nine  mules  and  two  horses.  The  ascent  was 
uninteresting  but  we  gradually  came  upon  more  and 
more  snow  and  the  pass  increased  in  interest.  There  is 
a  small  lake  at  the  top  and  a  dreary  drive  across  a  crest 
led  us  to  the  fine  part  of  the  descent.  This  is,  for  the 
last  hour  and  a  half  before  reaching  Susa,  singularly 
fine,  finer  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  than  any  de- 
scent I  have  yet  seen.  The  mountains  are  fine  in  their 
outlines,  and  the  road  winds  backward  and  forward 
between  chestnut  and  walnut  trees.  Susa  is  mainly 
remarkable  for  its  beautiful  situation  among  mountains 
with  snowy  peaks  always  in  sight,  and  a  burning  sun 
just  now.  The  cathedral  has  a  good  campanile  of  brick 
and  a  west  front  built  on  by  the  side  of  an  old  Roman 
gateway,  whose  scale  makes  that  of  the  church  seem  very 
small.  The  spire  of  the  cathedral  is  covered  with  small 
pieces  of  copper  (I  think)  cut  like  slates.  The  interior 
is  painted  all  over  in  the  worst  possible  taste.  Indeed 
throughout  the  Sardinian  dominions  there  seems  to  be 

[64] 


a  passion  for  painting  shaded  imitations  of  tracery  upon 
walls  and  groining.  Chambery  cathedral  is  a  notable 
specimen  of  this  and  Susa  not  much  better.  We  left 
Susa  at  8.30  p.m.  and  reached  Turin  at  10.30.  I  ex- 
pected nothing  here  and  was  agreeably  disappointed. 
A  city  cannot  fail  to  be  charming  which  has  at 
the  end  of  every  street  such  a  view,  of  mountains 
and  snow  at  one  end  and  hills  at  the  other,  as 
Turin  can  show.  And  then,  though  quite  modern, 
its  streets  have  that  narrow  picturesque  character  so 
universal  in  Italy,  and  in  every  way  leave  a  pleas- 
anter  impression  than  one  would  expect  from  maps 
and  descriptions.  .  .  . 

The  women  in  Turin  wear  handkerchiefs  on  their 
heads.  The  streets  are  some  of  them  arcaded,  by  ar- 
cades filled  with  stalls  of  all  kinds  of  wares  —  but  fruit 
is  the  staple  commodity  now.  The  effect  is  to  make  the 
place  look  rather  shabby  and  rubbishy.  There  is  not 
one  church  of  any  interest.  The  view  of  the  city  from 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  Po  is  charming,  owing  to  the 
immense  chain  of  Alps  spreading  from  right  to  left  all 
behind  the  city,  and  the  hills  above  the  Po  are  very  re- 
spectable, rising  as  they  do  about  2000  feet  above  the 
city  to  where  they  are  crowned  by  the  church  called  the 
Superga. 

We  left  Turin  at  5.30  and  reached  Genoa  at  9.30. 
The  views  of  the  Alps  by  sunset  very  charming.  At 
Asti  we  had  a  bottle  of  the  effervescing  vin  d'Asii  brought 
to  our  carriage,  and  could  not  resist  indulging  in  the 
pleasant  draught.  .  .  . 

The  notes  on  Genoa  appear  in  the  second  edition  of 
Brick  and  Marble. 

[65] 


August  29,  Pisa. 

My  expectations  were  very  high  here  and  were  a  little 
disappointed.  The  Gothic  work  in  the  grand  group  is 
mainly  confined  to  the  Campo  Santo  and  the  baptis- 
tery, and  in  the  former  the  traceries  are,  as  Pisano's 
always  are,  very  unscientific  and  more  like  a  confec- 
tioner's work  than  an  architect's,  whilst  the  latter  has 
undergone  such  an  amount  of  "restoration"  that  not 
one  old  crocket  is  left  and  barely  one  old  piece  of  tra- 
cery. There  is  abundant  evidence  however  in  the  Spina 
chapel  and  in  the  few  portions  of  the  original  marble 
still  left  in  the  Baptistery  that  Pisano  could  do  his  work 
in  a  way  very  different  from  what  we  do,  and  I  there- 
fore prefer  to  think  only  of  what  his  work  once  was  and 
not  of  what  it  is.  The  external  design  is  very  striking 
and  if  the  cone  above  the  dome  were  properly  finished 
with  a  circle  of  canopied  traceries  and  figures  I  have  no 
doubt  its  effect  would  be  perfect.  The  traceries,  carvings, 
etc.,  when  looked  into  are  very  bad,  and  it  should  be  seen 
therefore  from  a  distance.  The  interior  looks  much  older 
than  the  exterior  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this 
must  be  the  case,  notwithstanding  the  inscription  which 
says  it  was  "aedificata  de  novo"  in  1728.  Unquestion- 
ably this  must  refer  to  the  destruction  of  the  exterior 
which  left  the  interior  all  but  untouched.  The  dome  is 
in  part  covered  with  red  tiles  and  in  part  with  metal. 

The  Campo  Santo  is  architecturally  not  pleasing. 
Its  large  traceries,  unskilful  and  long,  never  at  all 
fit  on  to  the  capitals  of  the  shafts  that  support  them  — 
but  its  great  length  and  size  are  very  effective  and  the 
court  with  its  greensward  and  some  tall  cypress  trees 
at  the  centre,  the  mountains  blazing  in  the  sun  and  the 

[66] 


deep  blue  sky  above,  combine  to  make  a  very  charming 
picture.  Tiie  great  treasure  here  is  the  frescoes  with 
which  its  wails  are  covered.  Orcagna's  great  fresco  of 
the  Last  Judgement  quite  and  more  than  came  up  to  my 
hopes.  It  is  a  wonderful  work  and  full  of  exquisitely 
natural  treatment  of  figures  in  most  delicate  colours. 
The  aureole  round  the  figure  of  our  Lord  is  too  green,  I 
think,  otherwise  the  dignity  of  the  figure  is  unmatched 
if  not  unapproachable. 

The  cathedral  is  not  to  my  mind  a  pleasing  structure. 
Like  most  of  the  great  churches  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
it  is  raised  on  a  basement  of  several  steps  extending  in 
front  of  it  on  every  side.  It  is  Romanesque  in  character 
throughout,  its  nave  of  great  height  and  the  crossing 
covered  with  a  low  and  ugly  tiled  dome.  The  columns 
between  the  nave  and  aisles  (there  are  two  aisles  on 
each  side)  are  either  antique  or  closely  copied  from  the 
antique  and  have  nowhere  any  trace  either  in  their 
proportions  or  sculpture  of  any  really  Romanesque  char- 
acter. The  columns  everywhere  have  the  entasis  dis- 
tinctly developed.  All  the  walls  are  arcaded  externally 
and  striped  with  black  marble.  All  the  Pisan  and 
Luccan  buildings  are  similarly  striped  and  (unlike  the 
architecture  at  Genoa)  the  black  forms  but  a  very 
small  proportion  of  the  whole  wall.  It  is  generally  spaced 
regularly,  and  introduced  at  springings  and  sills  of  win- 
dows and  under  cornices,  and  there  is  no  approach  even 
to  irregularity  in  its  arrangement.  The  roof  is  one  of  a 
class  of  heavy  panelled  wooden  roofs  which  were  com- 
mon here  in  the  Renaissance  period,  similar  in  idea  to 
the  roof  of  the  Banqueting  House  at  Whitehall.  The 
aisles  are  pleasing,  vaulted  without  ribs.     In  the  old 

[67] 


glass,  of  which  some  quantity  remains,  the  colours  are 
very  rich,  there  is  scarcely  any  white  (if  any)  and  the 
designs  are  almost  entirely  made  of  lead  lines  and  not 
by  painting.  The  pulpit  has  two  figures  and  some  lions 
under  the  columns  which  were  preserved  from  an  older 
pulpit  said  to  be  the  work  of  Giovanni  Pisano.  The 
detail  of  all  the  ornamental  mouldings  is  completely 
Roman,  the  egg  and  tongue  being  everywhere  finely 
introduced.  .  .  . 

Of  domestic  buildings  Pisa  retains  very  extensive 
remains,  inasmuch  as  almost  every  house  bears  evidence 
of  being  mediaeval,  but  they  have  been  so  much  cut 
about  that  there  is  little  to  be  seen  now  at  all  perfect. 
There  is  an  elaborate  brick  and  terra  cotta  front  to  a 
house  on  the  Lungarno  but  it  is  of  very  late  date  —  al- 
most Renaissance  in  much  of  its  detail  and  very  flat, 
regular,  and  ineffective. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Arno  is  another  old  house 
now  used  as  the  Custom  House;  this  is  of  stone  but  its 
traceries  and  details  are  poor,  very  much  like  those  of 
the  Ptolomei  palace  at  Siena.  The  windows  are  shafted, 
but  the  capitals  of  the  shafts  are  generally  too  large 
for  the  arch  mouldings  which  they  have  to  support,  and 
the  mouldings,  if  they  may  be  called  so,  do  not  unite 
properly  and  are  singularly  ineffective.  Most  of  the  old 
..  houses  seem  to  have  had  a  row  of  plain  pointed  arches 
rising  some  twenty  feet  from  the  ground  line,  but  I 
could  not  make  out  whether  they  had  been  filled  in 
with  windows,  or  whether  they  belonged  to  the  stage  of 
stables  and  coach  houses  so  universal  in  these  Italian 
towns.  The  work  is  either  brick  or  stone,  but  in  no 
case  did  I  see  the  two  materials  countercharged. 

[68] 


On  the  Sunday  evening  there  was  a  grand  procession 
of  a  figure  of  the  B.  V.  M.,  with  a  vast  number  of  atten- 
dants all  with  lighted  candles,  a  military  band,  and  a 
few  cavalry  to  bring  up  the  rear.  The  view  from  the 
lowest  bridge  looking  up  the  Arno,  with  the  picturesque 
outlines  of  the  bold  hills  above  Pisa  behind  the  towers, 
is  one  of  the  most  charming  I  remember. 

A  railway  journey  from  Pisa  of  an  hour  brought  us 
to  Lucca.  The  railway  cuts  some  fine  hills,  and  passes 
by  the  ruins  of  a  large  castle  close  to  the  station  before 
Lucca. 

Lucca  is  entirely  enclosed  within  elaborate  brick  forti- 
fications, there  being,  I  think,  no  vestige  of  suburbs  on 
any  side.  The  ramparts  are  well  planted  with  trees,  and 
the  view  of  them  from  below,  giving  an  impression  of 
the  tall  walls  covered  with  trees  and  these  surmounted 
by  the  tall  towers  of  the  town,  is  fine.  The  view  of  the 
surrounding  mountains  is,  too,  very  exquisite. 

Of  course  our  first  object  was  the  cathedral.  Its 
west  front  need  hardly  be  described.  Its  detail  is  very 
rich  and  beautiful  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of  very  good 
inlaid  work.  In  the  upper  part  subjects  from  field  sports 
are  introduced,  whilst  lower  down  they  are  mainly  geo- 
metrical patterns.  Some  of  the  shafts  are  inlaid.  The 
three  great  arches  which  stretch  across  this  front  give 
a  dignity  to  it  in  which  S.  Michele,  Lucca,  Pisa  cathe- 
dral, and  the  other  imitations,  are  quite  wanting.  They 
are  remarkable  for  the  way  in  which  their  arches  are 
treated;  these  are  semicircular  and  the  width  of  the 
voussures  is  two  or  three  times  as  great  at  the  crown  as 
at  the  springing  —  the  effect  is  good.  An  image  is  cut 
in  the  right-hand  upper  end  of  this  front. 

[69] 


All  the  walls  and  arches  are  partially  striped  with  black, 
the  black  courses  being  very  thin  with  a  considerable 
space  between  them.  The  north  and  south  walls  of  the 
nave  and  transepts  are  cased  in  much  later  work  than 
the  west  front  and  are  good  specimens  of  Italian  pointed 
of  the  thirteenth  century.  The  carving  of  foliage  in  this 
work  is  very  bad  and  what  little  moulding  there  is  hardly 
looks  like  the  work  of  Gothic  men.  There  is  a  good 
inlaid  string  course  under  the  windows.  A  fine  campanile 
stands  a  little  in  advance  of  the  south-west  angle  of  the 
cathedral.  It  is  of  Romanesque  date  and  built  of  brown- 
ish rough  stone  below  and  of  white  stone  (or  marble) 
above ;  it  is  of  very  considerable  height  and  effect.  The 
interior  is  certainly  grand  but  disappointing  —  almost 
all  the  arches  are  semicircular  but  (as  the  groining  bays 
are  not  square)  the  wall  ribs  of  the  groining  bays  are 
pointed,  and  this  gives  in  some  way  a  general  effect  of 
pointed  to  the  whole  work.  The  main  arches  are  round, 
but  they  were  so  covered  with  red  hangings  that  it  was 
impossible  to  see  much  of  them.  The  triforium  is  of 
great  height  and  consists  in  each  bay  of  two  round- 
head windows,  filled  in  with  slight  tracery  —  the 
whole  is  of  poor  character  and  badly  proportioned. 
Above  these  two  windows  is  a  small  circular  window 
which  serves  for  clerestory.  The  groining  of  the  nave 
is  painted  richly.  It  has  broad  borders  next  the  ribs 
and  the  wall  is  painted  blue,  and  figures  in  the  centre 
of  each  painted  in  a  circle.  The  borders  have  a  good 
many  white  lines,  but  there  is  no  gold  in  any  part  of 
the  work. 

The  planning  of  the  transepts  is  very  singular. 
They  are  divided    by   an    arcade  down   the   centre, 

[70] 


and  as  the  nave  arcades  and  triforia  are  continued 
across  them  some  singular  combinations  are  pro- 
duced. The  pavements  have  small  compartments  of 
Italian  fifteenth  century  geometrical  patterns  in  mosaic, 
surrounded  by  square  arrangements  of  plain  black  and 
white. 

Close  to  the  cathedral  is  S.  Giovanni,  which,  though 
not  otherwise  remarkable,  has  an  immense  baptistery 
built  on  against  its  north  transept;  it  is  a  square  of 
about  fifty-seven  feet  internally  and  covered  with  a 
square  vault  of  a  domical  form.  The  old  font  has  been 
removed. 

Near  the  south  end  of  the  cathedral  is  the  little  chapel 
of  S.  Maria  della  Rosa.  It  is  a  small  low  building  of 
about  the  proportions  of  the  Spina  chapel,  and  mainly 
remarkable  for  the  window  tracery  in  its  side  wall. 
This  is,  like  all  other  tracery  hereabouts,  unpalatable  to 
me.  The  windows  are  shafted  and  I  suppose  therefore 
that  they  must  have  had  their  glass  put  in  frames  in- 
side. This  seemed  to  have  been  the  case  in  the  Spina 
chapel.  There  are  dates  of  1309  and  1333  on  the  build- 
ing, the  latter  on  part  of  a  door  which  in  England  I 
should  venture  to  call  Renaissance.  We  could  not  get 
inside  but  saw  through  a  window  that  the  interior  had 
been  completely  modernized.  .  .  . 

When  we  reached  Siena  we  found  the  station  elab- 
orately decorated  with  wreaths  and  flowers  in  pots, 
banners,  and  every  possible  kind  of  railway  utensil 
(even  portions  of  engines),  and  all  in  honor  of  the  Pope 
who  had  left  that  morning  for  Citta  della  Pieve  on  his 
way  home  after  a  tour  through  various  parts  of  Italy. 
He  seemed  to  have  been  greatly  feted  at  Siena. 

[71] 


Siena  is  situated  on  the  irregular  summit  of  a  con- 
siderable hill.  All  streets  are  up  and  down  and  in  some 
places  very  precipitous.  A  sort  of  natural  amphitheatre 
in  the  centre  of  the  city  —  the  Piazza  del  Campo  —  is  the 
chief  point  round  which  the  rest  is  built,  containing  the 
Palazzo  Pubblico,  a  grand  Gothic  building,  out  of  the  end 
of  which  soars  the  finest  campanile,  after  that  at  Verona, 
that  I  have  seen.  On  the  circle  of  the  Campo  opposite 
the  Palazzo  Pubblico  are  some  old  houses  but  not  any 
of  special  interest.  The  Palazzo  Pubblico  is  of  the  usual 
type  of  brick  buildings  here  and  very  regular.  .  .  .  The 
campanile  is  brick  without  break  or  ornament  of  any 
kind  for  a  great  height,  and  then  is  boldly  corbelled  for- 
ward on  all  sides;  the  whole  of  the  work  is  in  stone.  The 
arches  of  the  machicoulis,  the  bands  round  them,  and 
some  older  parts,  are  rendered  much  more  distinct  by 
the  introduction  of  lines  of  black  marble.  Seen  by 
a  bright  moonlight  this  campanile  possesses  such  an 
exquisite  contour  that  nothing  can  be  much  more  beau- 
tiful. The  contrasts  of  colours  too  are  most  admirably 
arranged,  and  the  exceeding  simplicity  of  the  lower 
part  cannot  be  too  much  praised. 

A  considerable  ascent  leads  from  the  Campo  to  the 
east  end  of  the  cathedral.  This  has  a  central  door  and 
on  entering  you  find  a  small  chapel  under  the  altar  of 
the  cathedral  gained  out  of  the  slope  of  the  ground. 
The  detail  of  this  chapel  and  of  the  east  end  of  the 
cathedral  above  it  is  by  far  the  best  example  of  Gothic 
work  in  the  city.  There  are  all  kinds  of  things  which, 
to  an  eye  used  to  the  exceptional  skill  and  care  in  fitting 
one  part  to  another  usual  among  northern  architects, 
are  very  unscientific-looking,  but  nevertheless  this  work 

[72] 


is  original  in  its  character  and  certainly  beautiful  in  its 
effect.  It  is  of  white  marble  striped  sparingly  with 
black.  A  flight  of  steps  leads  up  from  the  east  end  to 
a  north  doorway  in  the  east  wall  of  the  immense  unfin- 
ished work  which,  though  in  the  position  of  a  south 
transept,  would  really  have  been  rather  larger  than  the 
existing  nave  of  the  cathedral. 

This  south  transept  is  quite  unfinished  though  very 
considerably  advanced.  Its  south  wall  shows  that  the 
vaulting  was  to  have  been  semicircular  in  section  like  that 
of  the  nave.  The  proportions  of  the  whole  are  very 
bold  and  fine.  .  .  .The  rest  of  the  exterior  has  been 
much  modernized.  The  west  front  is  much  like  that  of 
Orvieto  but  I  don't  know  how  much  is  original.  There 
is  very  little  in  it  which  I  should  accept  as  really  pointed 
architecture.  The  foliage  and  the  feeling  of  the  whole  is 
very  Renaissance  and  the  steep  gables  are  all  sham  and 
are  very  unpleasantly  conspicuous  in  a  distant  general 
view  of  the  church.  The  campanile,  coursed  in  black 
and  white  in  nearly  even  proportions  (two  courses  of 
white  material  for  one  course  of  colours),  is  Romanesque, 
of  very  great  height,  and  follows  the  usual  rule  of  increas- 
ing its  number  of  openings  in  each  stage.  It  is  capped 
with  square  spirelets  at  the  angles,  and  a  low  octagon 
spire,  I  think  of  stone  —  this  I  thought  had  crockets, 
but  I  found  they  were  only  some  arrangements  for  illu- 
mination in  honour  of  the  Pope's  visit.  .  .  .  Internally 
the  church  has  been  painfully  modernized;  a  row  of 
Popes'  heads  —  about  as  artistic  as  a  row  of  barber's 
blocks  —  is  ranged  all  round  above  the  nave  arcade, 
and  the  whole  of  the  church  has  been  plastered  and 
painted  in  the  most  abominable  manner.    The  walls 

[73] 


are  striped  in  exactly  equal  courses  (about  eight  and  a 
half  inches  in  height)  of  black  and  white.  The  effect  is 
certainly  too  bizarre.  There  are  no  good  specimens  of 
carving,  and  the  detail  of  groining  ribs,  arches,  etc., 
is  hopelessly  bad.  All  of  the  pavements  are  covered 
with  subjects  formed  by  inlaying  and  incising  the  mar- 
bles which  compose  them.  There  is  a  certain  grandeur 
in  the  completeness  of  the  idea  but  the  effect  is  not 
good.  .  .  . 

We  spent  some  hours  to  great  advantage  in  the 
Accademia.  The  collection  of  pictures  of  the  early  Sienese 
school  is  wonderfully  rich  and  gave  me  a  very  high  idea 
of  the  power  of  some  of  the  men  whose  names  one  does 
not  often  hear. 

There  are  three  or  four  tondos  similar  to  that  at  San 
Domenico  and  a  considerable  number  of  reredoses  of 
various  sizes.  A  favorite  subject  is  the  B.  V.  M.,  sur- 
rounded by  saints  in  the  outer  compartments.  Nothing 
can  exceed  the  beauty  of  some  of  the  angels.  In  all, 
the  wood  seems  to  have  had  canvas  laid  on  it  which 
was  prepared  with  a  thick  layer  of  size,  and  on  this 
gold  was  laid  all  over  preparatory  to  painting.  In  some 
the  colour  has  peeled  off  and  left  the  gold  with  lines  for 
the  outline  of  the  figures  scratched  on  it.  Generally 
speaking  the  preservation  of  the  colours  in  these  pic- 
tures is  something  quite  marvellous,  not  a  crack  being 
visible  anywhere;  may  this  be  attributed  to  the  gold 
ground  ? 

The  later  pictures  are  not  so  interesting  nor  is  the 
collection  of  them  so  complete  as  it  is  of  the  others. 
Room  III  is  that  in  which  the  work  is  most  beautiful. 
There  were  several  students  at  work  drawing  from  the 

[74] 


life,  and  in  one  of  the  rooms  all  the  designs  submitted 
in  competition  for  prizes  were  exhibited.  The  archi- 
tectural designs  were  generally  very  commonplace  but 
one  or  two  for  a  holy-water  stoup  showed  power  of 
drawing  and  some  fancy.  Renaissance  is  the  only  style 
thought  of .  .  .  . 

September  2. 

The  view  from  Cortona  is  very  fme,  over  the  broad 
Val  de  Chiana  with  the  end  of  Lake  Thrasimene  full  in 
view,  and  the  irregular  mountain  outlines  of  Monte 
Cortona  and  other  heights  filling  up  the  whole  of  the 
background. 

We  left  after  only  two  hours*  pause  and  soon  reached 
the  head  of  the  lake.  We  were  busy  making  out  all  the 
sites  of  the  battle  (which  may  be  done  with  great  vivid- 
ness), when  we  reached  the  Papal  dogana.  There  were 
two  difficulties  —  first,  my  passport  was  improperly 
vised  but  this  I  got  over;  and  second,  our  driver  had 
no  vise  at  all,  and  it  was  half  an  hour  before  he  was 
allowed  to  take  us  on  as  far  as  the  next  village  under 
strict  promise  to  come  back  again  at  once.  It  rained 
heavily  as  we  started  and  we  lost  some  of  the  beauty  of 
this  the  best  part  of  our  drive.  Thrasimene  is  a  grand 
sheet  of  water  but  wants  some  striking  feature  on  its 
banks,  some  jutting  out  rocks  or  mighty  hills  plunging 
perpendicularly  into  its  depths,  to  make  it  thoroughly 
attractive.  Now  it  has  a  deserted  look:  its  banks  are 
not  grand  and  yet  no  houses  or  villages  show  there  and 
one  gets  a  rather  gloomy  impression.  The  place  at  which 
we  changed  our  horse,  Pasignano,  is  a  miserable  Italian 
village,  —  and  how  miserable  that  is  I  can  hardly  say 
—  with  its  fair  proportion  of  beggars,  i.e.,  every  one 

[75] 


whose  eye  you  catch  holds  out  a  hand  immediately  for 
a  meiio  baioccho.  It  is  prettily  situated,  and,  as  one 
of  the  places  at  which  vetturini  stop  on  the  road  to 
Rome,  ought  to  be  rather  better  favoured  as  to  an  inn. 
The  only  one  did  not  look  promising  and  we  preferred 
fasting  to  trying  it.  A  few  miles  more  and  we  left  the 
lake,  and  aided  by  two  bullocks  climbed  a  steep  hill 
above  its  banks,  reached  the  cathedral  and  village  of 
Magione,  and  drove  the  rest  of  the  way  by  moonlight 
to  Perugia  where  we  were  heartily  glad  to  find  our- 
selves at  10.30  P.M.  very  ready  for  something  to  eat. 

September  4. 

Lucca  in  its  flat,  surrounded  by  mountains,  Pisa 
grand  with  water  and  hills,  Genoa  with  the  blue 
Mediterranean  at  its  feet,  Siena  on  its  lofty  though 
arid  hills,  and  Arezzo  with  its  fine  prospect  of  cultivated 
valley  girt  with  hills,  must  all,  lovely  as  they  are,  give 
way  to  Perugia,  seated  on  the  irregular  summit  of  a 
mountain,  looking  one  way  toward  Thrasimene  and 
Monte  Cortona,  another  toward  the  irregular  peaks  of 
the  Appenines,  a  third  down  the  rich  flat  valley  of  the 
Tiber,  and  last  of  all  toward  the  noble  mountain  against 
whose  streaked  side  stands  whitely  shining  in  the  dis- 
tance the  object  of  many  an  artistic  as  well  as  many  a 
religious  aspiration,  the  shrine  of  the  great  saint  of 
Assisi.  Add  to  this  beauty  of  situation  a  beauty  of 
atmosphere  which  we  never  dream  of  in  England,  and 
the  picture  is  complete. 

Certainly  since  we  have  been  here  this  has  been  no 
land  of  cloudless  blue  skies.  We  have  had  glorious 
weather,  and  yet  without  any  doubt  the  most  glorious 

[76] 


cloud  scenery  we  have  ever  known  anywhere.  Sometimes 
a  violent  storm  in  the  distance  and  another  close  at 
hand,  sunsets  short  in  duration  but  brilliant  to  excess 
while  they  last,  and  in  midday  a  purple,  blue  or  violet 
tint  over  every  portion  of  the  wonderful  landscape.  .  .  . 

September  6. 

We  started  at  5.30  A.M.  for  Assisi. . . .  The  sacristan 
took  us  up  through  the  sacristy  by  a  staircase  which 
opens  into  the  north  transept  of  the  upper  church. 
From  the  gloom  of  the  lower  church  to  the  flood  of  col- 
oured light  in  the  upper  the  contrast  is  very  great.  The 
latter  is  in  all  respects  one  of  the  most  joyous  buildings 
I  have  ever  seen,  bold,  nervous  and  simple  in  its  design, 
exquisitely  harmonious  in  all  its  colouring,  and  in  most 
respects  unharmed  by  the  hand  of  the  restorer.  Ob- 
viously however  the  frescoes  on  the  roof  are  losing  their 
colour  and  being  gradually  washed  out.  This  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  account  for  when  one  sees  the  state  of  the  outer 
roof  of  the  church,  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  admits  an 
ample  supply  of  wet  at  the  top  of  the  groining.  The 
upper  church  is  used  only  on  some  few  great  days  during 
the  year  and  is  I  suppose  even  less  cared  for.  It  gave 
me  a  pang  to  be  shown  into  such  a  building  by  a  door  in 
a  corner,  to  see  the  principal  door  permanently  closed, 
grass  growing  thick  upon  the  dreary  piazza  in  front  of 
it:  it  was  even  more  mournful,  I  think,  than  is  the  sad 
solitude  of  the  great  group  at  Pisa. 

I  am  much  puzzled  by  the  interior  of  this  upper  church. 
I  cannot  get  out  of  my  head  the  impression  that  they 
[the  two  "churches"]  were  designed  and  in  part  executed 
by  Frenchmen.   The  detail  of  the  groining  piers  and  their 

[77] 


capitals  and  bases  are  so  peculiarly  and  characteris- 
tically French  that  (seeing  how  very  different  Italian 
work  of  the  same  date  was)  I  cannot  believe  that  they 
were  ever  wrought  by  Italian  hands  from  French  designs, 
because  sculpture  of  foliage  was  just  one  of  these  things 
in  which  the  character  of  different  schools  was  so  marked 
that  it  was  impossible  to  get  any  but  Frenchmen  to  do 
such  work  as  this.  Above  this  point  I  do  not  feel  the 
same  thing  because  I  see  that  the  window  traceries, 
though  very  fair,  have  a  feature  peculiar  to  Italian 
Gothic  —  in  the  way  in  which  the  circles,  etc.,  in  the 
tracery  are  put  under  the  main  arch,  just  touching  but 
not  uniting  with  it.  The  string  under  the  windows  has 
for  a  considerable  portion  of  its  length  a  complete  Eng- 
lish dog-tooth.  The  whole  of  the  walls  are  painted. 
Below  the  string  course,  which  is  very  high  from  the 
floor,  is,  first  a  painted  imitation  of  hangings  (much 
like  our  thirteenth  century  patterns)  in  which  the  diaper 
is  continued  regularly  without  reference  to  folds  in  the 
draperies;  then  a  row  of  noble  frescoes  by  Giotto;  and 
above  the  string  on  each  side  of  the  windows  other 
frescoes  by  Cimabue.  The  roof  is  by  the  latter,  and  the 
groining  bays  are  alternately  blue  studded  with  stars, 
and  frescoed  in  subjects.  The  latter  have  a  predomi- 
nance in  the  ground  of  a  rich  chrome — reddish  yellow — 
and  the  ribs  throughout  are  bordered  with  wide  patterned 
borders.  The  contrast  of  colours  is  admirable  and  finer 
than  anything  I  have  seen.  The  borders  round  the  work 
done  by  Giotto  are  very  inferior  to  those  in  Cimabue's 
work.    The  latter  ^  are  all  severely  flat  and  geometrical, 

^  These  must  be  those  now  given  to  Cavallini  and  his  school; 
and  Street's  taste  comes  out  right  where  knowledge  was  a-wanting. 
— G.  G.  K. 

[78] 


indulging,  after  a  few  feet  of  plain  pattern,  in  a  quatre- 
foil  \^\  or  one  inscribed  on  a  square,  painted  with  a 
head  on  a  blue  ground.  Giotto's,  on  the  other  hand, 
though  in  some  respects  very  beautiful,  indulge  too  much 
in  perspective,  e.g.  each  division  between  the  groining 
piers  is  divided  into  the  subjects  by  painted  and  shaded 
imitations  of  twisted  columns  bearing  cornices.  There 
are  some  features  of  interest  in  the  work  beyond  the 
exquisite  beauty.  To  me  it  was  new  to  find  Cimabue 
painting  with  so  little  rudeness  and  so  much  magnifi- 
cent simplicity  and  breadth  of  purpose.  I  note  another 
of  Giotto's  frescoes  is  interesting  as  showing  the  original 
use  of  the  painted  roods  of  which  we  have  seen  so  many. 
I  think  there  can  be  little  doubt  they  were  to  be  placed 
on  the  rood-screen,  as  he  distinctly  shows  them,  and, 
curiously,  I  find  in  this  upper  church  the  two  ends  of 
the  ancient  rood-beam  sawn  off  a  foot  from  the  wall. 
This  was  a  few  feet  west  of  the  crossing.  The  transepts, 
altar  and  stalls  are  all  modern  in  their  arrangements. 

Externally  there  is  nothing  to  notice  save  the  fine 
west  door  and  circular  window  over  it,  of  a  type  peculiar 
so  far  as  I  have  seen  to  the  churches  of  Assisi.  The 
glass  in  the  nave  windows  is  certainly  old  and  good, 
very  little  white  introduced. 

After  seeing  this  most  interesting  building  well,  we 
betook  ourselves  to  the  not  very  easy  work  of  climbing 
about  the  city  to  see  the  other  churches.  The  whole 
place  is  as  decayed,  forlorn  and  dirty  as  the  smallest  and 
rudest  of  fishing  villages  in  the  worst  out-of-the-way 
parts  of  Cornwall,  spread  out  to  ten  times  the  extent. 
Old  walls  remain  nearly  all  round,  with  gateways,  and 
at  the  highest  point  the  picturesque  ruin  of  a  castle. 

[79] 


The  west  end  of  the  cathedral  is  fine  and  the  campa- 
nile by  its  side  is  also  of  noble  size  and  good  character 
though  built  with  very  rough  stone.  .  .  . 

September  7. 

We  left  Perugia  this  morning  at  6  a.m.  in  the  ban- 
quette of  the  diligence  for  Arezzo.  The  day  was  charm- 
ing so  that  we  enjoyed  the  ride  throughly,  though  we 
had  done  it  all  so  lately  on  our  way  to  Perugia. 

Here  I  shall  note  down  a  few  of  the  things  we  have 
discovered  on  the  road:  — 

Hay  and  corn  stacks  are  all  made  round  a  tall  pole 
fixed  in  the  ground.  Another  piece  of  wood  nailed 
across  often  converts  this  into  a  cross  over  the  corn. 

In  Arezzo  cathedral  during  tierce  a  black  cat  was 
howling  about  the  cathedral  in  a  most  ludicrous  manner. 
It  belongs  to  the  church  and  is  always  howling  about, 
sitting  on  altars,  and  so  forth.  Foreigners  never  care 
about  taking  animals  into  church  with  them.  Dogs 
are  special  church-goers  in  Italy! 

About  Perugia  the  women's  costume  is  good:  white 
sleeves,  blue  skirt,  pink  bodice  and  bright  handkerchief 
over  the  head.  The  women  usually  wear  immense  straw 
hats  about  two  feet  six  inches  in  diameter,  generally 
pinned  on  to  the  back  of  the  head  and  flapping  back  to 
shade  none  of  the  face.  Between  Arezzo  and  Florence 
the  women  often  wear  round  beaver  hats  with  broad  flat 
brims  —  and  very  ugly  they  are.  Women  carry  a  fan 
instead  of  a  parasol.    Women  in  Genoa  wear  white  veils. 

The  staple  production  of  much  of  Tuscany,  Siena,  and 
the  Papal  States  seems  to  be  olives.  The  trunks  of  the 
trees  are  always  very  old,  crushed  down  in  the  centre 
and  sometimes  two  or  three  feet  in  diameter.    The 

[80] 


branches  are  young  wood  and  always  trained  out  so  as 
to  leave  a  hollow  circle  in  the  centre.  The  colour  is  a 
very  blue  green  and  as  they  are  planted  everywhere  in 
lines  and  at  regular  intervals,  they  do  not  improve  either 
the  near  or  the  distant  view  of  the  landscape.  Maple 
trees  are  trained  in  the  same  way  for  the  purpose  of  grow- 
ing vines.  The  vines  are  festooned  sometimes  from  tree 
to  tree  and  at  others  festooned  round  the  tree  itself. 

The  ploughs  here  are  very  clumsy,  they  have  a  very 
heavy  wooden  frame  with  an  iron  shoe  put  on  in  front. 
It  does  not  turn  the  dirt  over  but  only  digs  a  rough  fur- 
row in  the  ground.  Oxen  are  always  used  for  all  agri- 
cultural work.  They  are  ringed  through  the  nose  and 
a  cord,  fastened  to  this  ring  and  passing  under  a  rope 
between  the  horns,  serves  as  a  rein.  The  carts  are  so 
made  that  they  are  loaded  far  out  on  the  pole  to  the 
shoulder  of  the  men. 

All  houses  here  have  a  pigeon  house  raised  above  the 
roof.  On  it  are  painted  some  flying  pigeons  on  a  white 
ground.  It  is  generally  a  large  construction  and  looks 
like  a  look-out  room  at  first. 

It  is  curious  that  we  never  see  a  bird  flying  about,  yet 
we  eat  at  dinner  every  day  portions  of  two  or  three. 
Where  do  they  all  come  from? 

All  the  houses  are  built  over  stables. 

Wayside  churches  seem  almost  always  to  have  a  small 
window  on  each  side  of  their  western  door  protected  by 
a  grating  and  with  a  shutter  inside.  Often  there  is  an 
arcaded  porch  above. 

September  8. 

We  left  Arezzo  at  6  a.m.  in  the  diligence  for  Florence. 
With  such  a  bourne  the  pace  of  an  Italian  diligence  is 

[81] 


very  aggravating  —  five  and  a  quarter  miles  an  hour  is 
the  average  speed,  and  the  poor  wretches  of  horses  have 
to  go  stages  of  twenty  miles  without  stopping.  The  road 
is  very  interesting.  It  passes  nearly  all  the  way  through 
hilly  country  rich  in  olives  and  vines  and  with  the  grand 
outlines  of  the  Appenines  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood. I  saw  not  one  architectural  feature  in  the 
entire  journey.  We  passed  through  two  or  three  small 
towns  busy  with  festivities  in  honour  of  the  Nativity 
of  the  B.  V.  M.  but  their  churches  seemed  to  be  all 
modern. 

After  passing ^  we  recommenced  a  long  ascent 

and  aided  by  four  mules  and  ponies  achieved  the  high- 
est point  after  about  two  hours  of  the  hardest  work 
under  the  hottest  of  suns.  Here  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Florence  in  the  distance;  but  about  three  miles  further 
the  whole  city  suddenly  opened  to  the  view,  filling  up 
the  valley  of  the  Arno  with  its  campanile  and  dome 
thrown  out  grandly  by  a  passing  shadow  upon  the  deli- 
cate blue  and  violet  tints  of  the  Pistojese  mountains  in 
the  background.  Fiesole  was  on  our  right  and  the 
whole  country  between  it  and  Florence  seemed  to  be 
dotted  over  with  villas,  looking  gay  and  lovely  in  the 
brilliant  sunshine.  Behind  Fiesole  a  long  hill  of  rich 
reddish  brown  stood  out  from  the  rest  and  afforded  by 
its  contrast  with  the  other  colours  of  the  landscape  as 
complete  a  whole  as  can  be  imagined.  It  is  in  vain  to 
describe  such  a  view:  it  is  the  most  exquisite  of  the  kind 
that  I  have  ever  seen,  and  words  cannot  carry  the  im- 
pression of  an  effect  not  produced  solely  by  facts  but 
in  part  undoubtedly  by  sentiment. 

*  If  Street  did  not  know  the  name,  how  should  the  editor?  — G.G.  K. 
[82] 


A  long  drive  through  suburbs  brought  us  to  an  old 
gate  (shorn  of  its  old  Florentine  machicoulis,  however) 
where  we  were  detained  nearly  half  an  hour  about  our 
passports  and  luggage,  and  this  done  we  soon  arrived 
at  our  inn,  crossing  the  Arno  by  the  Ponte  alle  Grazie 
and  passing  in  our  way  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  Or  San 
Michele  and  Giotto's  tower.  The  latter  was  looked  for 
eagerly  and  rewarded  my  anxious  eyes.  It  is  certainly 
the  most  lovely  piece  of  building  I  have  ever  seen.  I 
shall  say  no  more  but  go  on  to  journalize  on  the  build- 
ings as  I  am  able.  .  .  . 
Street's  appreciation  of  Florence  was  intelligent,  ardent, 

and  characteristic,  but  is,  more  than  any  other  of  his 

notes,  a  journal  intime.    /  have  respected  his  sincerities. 

September  13. 

We  spent  the  whole  of  the  afternoon  very  profitably 
at  Pistoia.  The  cathedral  has  not  much  architectural 
character.  The  west  front  has  a  good  simple  Romanesque 
door  and  an  open  arcade  all  across  in  front.  At  the  north- 
west stands  a  very  lofty  and  massive  campanile,  plain 
below  but  arcaded  richly  above  with  arcades  that  have 
the  appearance  of  being  put  on  in  front  of  the  real  tower 
instead  of  helping  to  support  it.  They  have  semicir- 
cular arches  and  then  have  their  tympana  filled  in  with 
chequer  patterns  in  white  and  black  marble.  The  whole 
of  this  arcaded  part  of  the  steeple  is  coursed  in  alternate 
white  and  dark  green:  the  lower  part  is  of  stone.  In- 
ternally the  cathedral  has  little  to  show.  There  is  a 
moderately  good  monument  near  the  west  end  to  a 
professor  who  is  represented  lecturing;  no  mark  of  his 
religious  faith  (I  think)  is  introduced.^  .  .  . 
^  This  will  be  Messer  Cino — of  Dante  and  Mr.  Hewlett.— G.  G.  K. 
[83] 


Opposite  the  cathedral's  west  front  stands  the  fine 
baptistery.  This  is  octangular  in  plan  and  built  in 
equal  courses  of  white  and  dark  marble.  Its  external 
effect  is  very  good  indeed.  It  has  a  western  door^  and 
north  and  south  doors  and  a  small  chancel  projected  on 
the  west  side.  The  design  recalls  in  some  respects  the 
baptistery  at  Pisa  and  must  have  been  built  about  the 
time  that  was  altered.  The  interior  unfortunately  is 
as  plain  and  bare  as  whitewash  can  make  it.  The  great 
octangular  font  in  the  centre  is  of  the  same  kind  of  work 
as  the  screens  at  S.  Miniato,  Byzantine  in  the  char- 
acter of  its  sculpture,  but  delicate  and  elaborate  in  its 
detail  and  altogether  a  good  specimen:  it  is  executed 
mainly  in  white  marble.  .  .  . 

In  another  church,  S.  Bartolomeo,  I  found  a  pulpit 
(also  dated,  etc.)  made  by  Guido  da  Como  in  1250.  This 
is  square  in  plan,  supported  partly  in  the  wall  and  partly 
on  three  shafts,  two  of  which  rest  on  lions'  backs  and 
the  third  on  a  sitting  figure  of  a  woman.  The  sculpture 
is  rude  but  vigorous.  The  whole  of  the  sides  is  covered 
with  subjects,  and  at  the  angles  are  three  figures,  or 
rather  one  figure  with  two  others  looking  out  from  be- 
hind him.  The  subjects  are  described  by  inscriptions 
under  each  in  Latin. 

Going  from  here  to  the  church  of  S.  Giovanni  Evan- 
gelista,  we  saw  a  similar  pulpit  of  later  date  and  superior 
workmanship  but  evidently  very  closely  copied  from 
the  work  in  S.  Bartolomeo.  The  two  angle  columns 
remain,  both  resting  on  lions'  backs.  The  lions  have 
been  turned  round  so  as  both  to  face  the  west  wall,  — 
a  most  ridiculous  position.  It  is  clear  indeed  that 
1  Eastern?  queries  Street  in  pencil. 
[84] 


all  of  these  pulpits  have  been  taken  down  and  re- 
constructed. In  this  work  the  central  column  at  S. 
Giovanni  has  been  taken  away.  It  seems  to  me  that 
this  pulpit  at  S.  Bartolomeo  is  the  prototype  of  all 
those  for  which  the  Pisani  have  so  much  credit.  Gio- 
vanni Pisano  is  said  to  have  sculptured  the  pulpit  in 
S.  Giovanni  and  if  so  (and  I  think  it  seems  probable) 
he  simply  copied  the  older  work.  I  do  not  know  what 
the  pulpit  of  S.  Andrea  is  like,  but  I  have  little  doubt 
that  it  was  really  from  this  pulpit  that  they  obtained 
their  idea  for  all  their,  very  similar  works. 

The  south  front  of  S.  Giovanni  is  arcaded  in  the 
Pisan  fashion  (with  lozenge  panels  in  the  arches)  and 
above  arcaded  with  two  rows  of  elaborate  arcading.  The 
whole  elevation  is  remarkable  in  its  effect.  The  roof  is 
of  the  usual  type,  with  long  tie  beams,  and  quite  flat  in 
pitch.  .  .  . 

We  were  followed  about  everywhere  here  by  two 
very  dirty  and  very  ragged  urchins  who  took  us  to  see 
everything.  They  knew  about  the  pulpits,  talked  about 
Luca  del  la  Robbia,  etc.,  and  when  I  gave  them  an 
indivisible  coin,  about  which  they  quarrelled,  they 
settled  the  matter  by  putting  it  into  the  poor  box. 
How  unlike  any  English  boys  altogether!  We  were  im- 
mensely amused  by  their  sharp  impudence. 

The  inn  at  Pistoia  looked  out  on  green  shrubs  and 
gardens,  very  pleasant:  the  consequence  was  not  so 
pleasant  —  the  being  kept  awake  half  the  night 
and  bitten  in  all  directions  by  our  troublesome  enemies 
the  mosquitoes.  We  had  to  turn  out  early  to  join  the 
diligence  whch  arrived  by  railway  from  Florence  at  7.30 
A.M.    We  made  a  brilliant  start  but  very  soon  altered 

[85] 


our  pace,  the  road  beginning  to  ascend  almost  imme- 
diately, and  then  for  about  four  hours  we  toiled  slowly 
up  the  slopes  of  the  Appenines,  at  first  with  six  and 
afterwards  with  eight  horses.  The  day  was  fine  but  misty 
so  that  we  lost  very  much  of  the  distant  view.  The  scen- 
ery is  fine  but  not  alpine.  It  reminded  me  more  of  the 
Jura,  save  that  the  hills  seem  here  more  to  be  shaken 
confusedly  about  and  not  to  range  themselves  into  regu- 
lar lines  or  masses.  The  olive  tree  was  seen  for  the  last 
time  as  we  went  up  and  then  we  came  through  great 
numbers  of  Spanish  chestnuts,  and  lastly  for  half  an 
hour  at  most  through  a  bleak,  open  and  treeless 
country. 

The  descent  was  very  different,  down  a  narrow  valley, 
following  the  windings  of  the  mountain  stream, 
with  fine  combinations  of  scenery  and  views.  Stopped 
at  La  Porretta  for  dinner,  and  then  on  through  a  fine 
country  but  along  a  miserable  road  constantly  crossing 
the  (now  dry)  beds  of  mountains  torrents.  The  soil  is 
exceedingly  liable  to  land  slips  and  seems  to  be  sliding 
about  in  all  directions  —  of  course  road-making  is 
difficult.  At  Vergato,  a  small  village  or  town  on  this 
part  of  the  road,  the  old  Palazzo  Pubblico  was  passed, 
covered  with  coats  of  arms  in  the  usual  way  and  dis- 
tinguished by  its  Ringhiera  still  perfect  and  jutting  out 
into  the  narrow  street.  We  reached  Bologna  at  8  p.m. 
A  wall  and  gate  was  passed  about  a  mile  from  the  town; 
I  could  not  understand  what  wall  it  was. 

September  15. 

S.  Petronio  is  the  grandest  church  in  Bologna.  Its 
west  front  is  of  immense  size  and  width  but  left  nearly 
all  in  rough  brick,  the  door  and  basement  alone  being 

[86] 


finished.  This  part  of  the  work  is  of  poor  character  and 
the  sculpture^  (except  in  a  stela  on  the  south-west  door 
which  I  thought  very  vigorous)  not  particularly  good. 
The  interior  is  magnificent.  .  .  . 

S.  Francesco  is  one  of  the  finest  churches  in  the 
town  but  shabby  and  decayed  outside  and  "painted 
and  decorated"  to  such  an  extent  inside  as  to  have  de- 
stroyed nearly  all  its  good  effect.  I  never  saw  anything 
more  vile.  The  whole  church  is  of  brick  and  it  has  an 
apsidal  east  end  with  an  aisle  all  round  the  apse  and 
chapels  beyond.  The  buttresses  are  "flying"  but  very 
heavy.  The  west  door  is  good  and  indeed  the  whole 
west  front  is  striking.  The  windows  are  new  but  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  probably  copies  of  the  original  win- 
dows. The  campanili  are  curious.  There  are  two  — 
one  much  smaller  than  the  other  and  both  on  the  south 
side  of  the  choir.  They  form  a  curious  combination 
in  the  views  from  the  east.  .  .  . 

September  16. 

The  ride  to  Ferrara  was  very  uninteresting  —  about 

four  and  a  half  hours;  we  had  left  the  hills  altogether 

and  saw  nothing  at  all  of  any  distant  country.    The  land 

was  rich  with  vines,  mulberry  trees  and  rice  plantations, 

but  certainly  not  picturesque.    The  grapes  were  being 

picked,  and  we  met  everywhere  here  and  in   Bologna 

waggons  bearing  magnificent  casks  for  the  reception  of 

the  grapes.    These  carts  have  a  great  beam  from  back 

to  front  elaborately  carved  and  ornamented  with  colour, 

and  wheels  also  carved  and  ornamented.     They  are 

really  very  handsome  and  put  one  in  mind  of  the  frame- 

>  Attributed  to  Jacopo  della  Querela;  it  is  not  hard  to  divine  why, 
when  Donatello  had  failed  to  satisfy,  Jacopo  should  offend.  — 
G.  G.  K. 

[87] 


work  for  guns  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time.    They  are  al- 
ways drawn  by  white  oxen. 
Here   the    Brick  and  Marble  volume  takes  up  the  tale. 

To  1872  belongs  a  notebook  particularly  spirited  in  text 

and  drawings.    It  opens: 

1872 — With  M.  S.  and  Jessie  Holland  (afterwards 
J.  M.  A.  Street) 

February  24. 

Left  London  at  8.35,  and  reached  Paris  at  7  a.m.  .  .  . 

Towns  generally  built  on  hills.  Curious  number  of 
churches  in  which  the  tower  and  spire  at  one  end  and  a 
very  high  choir  at  the  other  have  a  low  nave  between 
them.  The  scenery  has  the  large  French  character, 
owing  to  absence  of  hedgerows  and  the  very  long  lines 
of  trees  —  generally  lanky  poplars  closely  set.  Just 
before  Dijon,  at  Plombieres,  I  saw  a  very  pretty  tiled 
spire,  tiles  of  golden  yellow,  green,  etc.,  very  rich  and 
charming  in  colour;  —  green  not  at  all  blue-green. 

Reached  Macon  at  8.30  and  after  coffee  walked  out  to 
try  to  see  something.  Moon  rose  beautifully  over  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Saone,  here  a  very  fine  looking 
river.  Walked  about  nearly  in  vain  but  came  at  last 
on  remains  of  a  church  of  some  interest.^  It  has  two 
octagonal  towers,  the  lower  part  of  which  seems  to  be 
Romanesque,  and  a  nave  of  some  forty  feet  long  with 
an  enormous  central  doorway  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
and  aisle  arches  on  each  side  of  it  (now  glazed)  of  the 
twelfth  century,  —  choir  entirely  destroyed,  and  a  small 
cloister  arcade  built  up  in  front.  The  whole  has  been 
all  but  destroyed  and  then  I  suppose  just  patched  up  by 

1  Qy.:  S.  Vincent?  — G.  G.  K. 
[88] 


some  good-intentioned  antiquary.     It  is  (at  least  in  the 
dark)  an  arcliitectural  puzzle. 

February  25. 

Called  at  4.30  and  off  by  train  for  Genoa  via  Turin 
at  6  A.M.  As  we  left  and  crossed  the  Saone  saw  that 
the  church  I  had  discovered  last  night  was  the  only  old 
looking  church,  and  that  the  cathedral  is  an  entirely 
new  stone  building.  It  was  a  fine  frosty  morning  and 
we  could  do  no  more  than  keep  ourselves  warm  by 
shutting  up  windows,  and  so  seeing  but  little  through  the 
hoar  frost  on  the  glass. 

At  Culoz  we  had  a  second  breakfast  and  found  the 
hills  all  about  us  suddenly  looking  like  mountains  ow- 
ing to  the  snow  on  all  their  higher  points.  When  we 
came  back  from  Geneva  last  year,  fresh  from  the  Alps, 
we  hardly  deigned  to  look  at  them,  and  to-day  they 
seem  to  all  of  us  about  as  lovely  and  grand  as  they 
could  be.  At  Culoz  we  changed  carriages  and  then,  keep- 
ing by  the  pretty  Lac  du  Bourget,  were  soon  at  Cham- 
bery,  and  then  all  the  way  to  Modane  we  entertained 
ourselves  by  the  discovery,  first  on  one  side  then  on  the 
other,  of  snow  mountains  of  the  first  magnitude!  At 
Modane  carriages  are  changed  again  for  Italy,  pass- 
ports are  examined,  and  then  we  start  for  the  tunnel. 
The  railway  runs  round  Lons-le-Bourg,  where  we  used 
to  take  sledges  for  the  Mont  Cenis,  and  then  ascends 
winding  round  until  the  mountain  above  Modane  is 
reached.  Here  the  tunnel  begins  and  we  were  just 
twenty-six  minutes  passing  through  it.  I  promised 
every  one  spring,  oranges  in  fruit,  and  trees  in  full 
foliage  when  we  really  reached  Italy;  but  it  was  just 
the  opposite,  for  there  was  more  snow,  by  very  much, 

[89] 


when  we  reached  Bardonnecchia  than  when  we  left 
Modane.  We  caught  one  or  two  views  of  churches  and 
I  just  managed  to  secure  a  note  of  Susa  seen  in  the 
most  picturesque  way  far  below  us.  We  reached  Turin 
at  6.42,  got  some  dinner  at  the  railway  station  and  had 
some  much  too  sweet  vin  d'AsH,  and  started  again  at 
7.35  for  Genoa,  where  we  arrived  at  midnight. 

February  29,  Genoa. 

A  glorious  morning  welcomed  us  to  this  most  delight- 
ful town.  It  was  really  like  summer  and  the  views  in 
all  directions  were  most  exquisite.  Even  before  I  got 
up  I  saw  through  my  window  the  beautiful  outline  of 
the  mountains  of  the  Riviera  all  covered  with  snow,  and 
just  a  line  of  the  blue  Mediterranean  above  and  beyond 
the  crowd  of  vessels  below  us  in  the  port.  We  had 
rooms  at  Feder's  hotel  —  now  Trombetta's  —  and  our 
bedroom  had  an  oratory  in  it  with  a  very  elaborately 
carved  altar,  etc.,  which  has  been  not  very  reverently 
turned  now  into  a  sleeping  room. 

I  spent  most  of  my  day  at  the  new  English  church 
directing  the  workmen,  etc.  Lunched  with  the  Shelbells, 
but  did  not  see  Brown  the  consul,  who  had  gone  off  to  a 
castle  he  had  bought  near  Sestri.  The  church  looks 
fairly  well,  but  it  is  difficult  to  make  anything  lofty 
enough  to  compete  with  the  enormous  houses  which  it 
is  the  fashion  to  build  now  in  Genoa  and  with  which  it 
is  surrounded. 

Walked  a  little  about  the  city:  into  the  Via  Nuova 
which  is  straight  for  the  greater  part  of  its  length  (in- 
stead of  curved  as  I  fancied)  —  up  and  down  the  gold- 
smith's street  which  seems  always  to  lead  to  everything 
—  into  the  cathedral  and  some  of  my  other  old  friends 

[90] 


among  the  churches.  Noticed  particularly  the  sump- 
tuous effect  which  the  painted  palaces  produce.  The 
palace  now  used  by  the  British  consul  is  covered  outside 
with  painting,  a  good  deal  of  which  remains  in  fair  con- 
dition whilst  the  two  arcades  round  the  courtyard  are  in 
a  very  fairly  perfect  state.  The  doors  to  the  houses  in 
Genoa  had  commonly  an  oblong  panel  of  sculpture  over 
them.  These  were  cut  in  slate  at  or  near  Savona.  The 
Gothic  houses  here  have  arcades  below,  and  corbel  tables 
under  the  second  floor,  and  the  windows  divided  into 
lights  by  very  delicate  shafts.  The  best  samples  are 
the  Doria  houses  close  to  S.  Matteo. 

We  left  Genoa  at  9.00  by  steamer  for  Livorno.  The 
boat  was  small  and  full  of  passengers,  but  I  slept  well 
on  the  floor  of  the  cabin  till  we  reached  our  port  soon 
after  5  a.m. 

March  1. 

Started  by  the  9.12  train  for  Empoli.  Murray  de- 
scribes Empoli  in  such  terms  as  made  us  feel  no  regret 
at  having  to  stop  there  those  three  hours.  Unfortunately 
his  description  turned  out  to  be  all  wrong,  and  we  found 
but  little  to  see  or  sketch.  The  best  thing  there  is  the 
steeple  of  the  collegiata.  The  front  of  this  church  is  a 
work  of  about  1600  in  white  marble  and  serpentine. 
And  the  Pallei  building  opposite  to  it  is  entirely  seven- 
teenth century,  but  has  some  wall  painting  outside  which 
somewhat  redeems  its  otherwise  uninteresting  walls. 

Our  train  left  Empoli  at  2.25  and  did  not  reach  Orvieto 
till  nearly  10.  During  the  first  part  of  the  journey  I 
was  well  employed  making  sketches  from  the  windows 
of  the  carriage  of  Certaldo,  S.  Gemignano,  etc.  We 
caught  some  beautiful  glimpses  of  Siena  as  we  dashed 

[91] 


by,  and  then  as  we  passed  through  the  wretched  country 
just  to  the  south  of  it,  we  gradually  lost  the  daylight, 
and  slept  away  the  hours  till  Orvieto  was  reached. 
Here  the  station  by  daylight  looks  just  under  the  town, 
but  it  took  us  forty  minutes  to  drive  up. 

March  2,  Orvieto. 

I  was  out  before  breakfast  and  spent  a  long,  busy, 
and  happy  day  here.  The  town  is  perched  on  the  top 
of  a  rock  which  is  on  most  sides  a  precipice  at  first 
and  then  a  long  slope  carrries  the  eye  on  to  the  river  and 
valleys  at  the  bottom.  Beyond  on  all  sides  are  distant 
hills  to  be  seen,  one  of  them  very  picturesque  in  outline. 
In  summer  it  must  be  a  perfect  view,  but  now  the 
olives  are  the  only  trees  in  leaf,  and  their  colour  is  so 
sad  that  it  does  not  do  much  for  the  landscape. 

The  old  walls  exist  round  much  of  the  town.  They 
are  generally  set  back  a  few  feet  from  the  edge  of  the 
rock  so  as  to  leave  a  passage  outside,  which  in  its  turn 
is  defended  by  battlements  built  on  the  cliff.  The  lay 
of  the  ground  reminds  one  of  Toledo,  but  the  country  is 
more  open,  and  the  river  is  not  a  Tagus  and  does  not 
produce  much  effect  on  the  landscape.  The  views  which 
may  be  had  from  various  points  of  the  rocks  and  walls 
are,  however,  superb,  and  I  have  seldom  seen  anything 
more  striking.  On  the  other  hand  there  is  no  building 
of  sufficient  importance  in  the  town  to  give  the  best  ef- 
fect to  the  views.  The  cathedral,  not  having  any  tower, 
produces  but  little  general  effect,  and  the  only  towers 
are  some  of  the  plain  square  family  fortress  towers  like 
these  sketched  at  S.  Gemignano. 

The  cathedral  more  than  fulfilled  my  expectations. 
The  west  front  is  in  its  way  very  beautiful,  delicate  and 

[92] 


:^^;r  -* 


4      ^¥  '  r*)^    ' 


MASTER  MATTHEWS  PORCH  AT  SANTIAGO 


refined  —  perhaps  over-refined  everywhere,  and  beau- 
tiful in  the  symmetry  of  its  arrangement.  But  it  is 
still  not  a  great  success.  My  great  interest  here  is  in  the 
sculpture  of  the  piers  between  and  at  the  sides  of  the 
doors.  First  of  all,  I  must  say  that  they  strike  me  as 
too  small  and  delicate  for  their  place.  This  is  their  one 
fault.  If  they  were  to  be  there  they  ought  to  be,  as  they 
are,  small  and  in  low  relief  so  as  not  to  interfere  with 
the  flatness  and  look  of  strength  in  the  walls.  The 
sculpture  in  the  northern  pier  —  the  days  of  creation  — 
is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  the  four.  Nothing  can 
be  much  more  refined  in  feeling  or  treatment.  The 
heads  are  a  little  exaggerated.  The  next  pier  which  con- 
tains the  succession  of  the  seed  of  Abraham  seems  to  me 
to  be  altogether  inferior  to  the  others.  The  third  and 
fourth  (from  the  north)  are  equal,  or  nearly,  to  the 
first,  though  a  little  more  crowded.  In  the  last  the  figure 
of  our  Lord  surrounded  by  an  aureole  of  angels,  in  the 
Last  Judgement,  is  beautifully  designed.  The  foliage 
decorations  of  all  this  work  are  very  natural  in  their 
treatment  and  extraordinarily  skilful.  The  play  of  relief 
in  leaves,  whose  extreme  projection  from  the  face  of  the 
marble  is  often  not  more  than  an  eighth  of  an  inch,  is 
of  the  most  delicate,  subtle  and  artistic  description. 
Contrast  the  skill  with  which  it  is  treated  with  the 
workmanship  in  the  south  door,  and  the  difference  of 
power  will  be  seen. 

The  interior  is  very  large  and  simple  —  the  architec- 
tural detail  generally  very  poor.  Columns  (large  cylin- 
ders with  exaggerated  capitals  of  queer  semi-classic 
detail)  carrying  alternated  arches,  show  the  character- 
istic faults  of  the  Pisan  school  of  architects.    The  clere- 

[93] 


story  has  long,  simple,  traceried  windows,  and  the  best 
detail  is  in  the  east  window,  which  has  good  geometrical 
tracery,  is  of  very  long  proportion,  and  is  filled  with 
stained  glass  of  beautiful  design  —  subjects  in  square 
panels.  The  effect  of  its  colour  is  perfect.  All  round  it 
are  paintings  by  Agnolino  of  Orvieto,  not  very  fresh  now, 
but  giving  a  colour  of  the  most  tender  kind  to  the  inte- 
rior, to  which  the  simple  black  and  white  striped  construc- 
tion of  the  columns  and  walls  leads  the  eye  up  gradually 
and  well.  In  the  east  window  the  glass  is  divided  into 
small  panels.  There  are  four  lights  but  in  spite  of  the 
irregularity  caused  by  this  even  number  the  grounds 
of  the  subjects  are  all  countercharged,  alternately 
ruby  and  blue.  .  .  . 

fVhat  Street  said,  and  what  he  thought,  of  Siena  and  Or- 
vieto, is  nearly  unique.  At  Viterbo  and  Toscanella, 
he  could  only  see  and  feel  the  first  what  others  have 
since  made  familiar.    Corneto  is  less  known.  ^ 

March  4. 
Looking  back  to  Viterbo  I  saw  it  lighted  up  with  beau- 
tiful effect  by  a  sudden  burst  of  sunshine.  Its  towered 
walls  were  in  deep  shade  whilst  a  cloud  of  light,  wind- 
started  from  the  town  behind,  caught  the  bright  sunshine 
and  seemed  to  set  the  steeples  of  the  town  in  a  sort  of 
halo.  Behind  rose  the  high  mountain  and  to  the  left 
of  this,  in  the  far  distance,  a  line  of  snow-capped  moun- 
tains which  added  immensely  to  the  beauty  of  the  view. 
This  open  country  is  very  charming  —  clouds  casting 
their  shadows  here  and  there  and  a  horizon  always 
lovely  in  the  pure  colour  of  the  mountains  or  hills 
which  fringe  it.  All  the  way  we  had  Montefiascone  in 
full  view. 

[94] 


Corneto  stands  on  a  steep  hill  above  the  marshy 
flat  which  borders  the  Mediterranean.  Its  old  walls  and 
towers  standing  generally  on  a  rocky  base  give  it  a  very 
imposing  appearance,  but  its  interest  seems  to  be  mainly 
Etruscan.  The  inn  at  which  we  stopped  made  amends 
for  any  lack  in  the  churches  by  its  extremely  good 
character.  It  is  of  late  fourteenth  century  work,  but 
the  internal  courtyard  with  its  open  arcades  on  two 
sides  is  most  beautiful.  The  front  towards  the  street 
shows  in  some  of  its  detail  and  especially  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  masonry  in  its  upper  portion,  the  influence 
of  the  Renaissance.  The  building  formed  originally  three 
sides  of  a  quadrangle  with  a  passage-way  corbelled  out 
on  the  wall  which  forms  the  fourth  side.  The  lower 
storeys  have  fine  open  arcades,  and  the  third  a  series 
of  delicate  shafts  with  very  effective  capitals  oblong  in 
plan,  carrying  a  white  marble  lintel  under  the  wall  plate. 
The  whole  scheme  is  one  of  extreme  beauty  and  has  much 
of  the  effect  of  being  earlier  in  date  than  it  really  is.  .  .  . 
IVith  a  few  notes  on  Rome,  and  the  exquisite  drawing  of  a 
living  acanthus  leaf  at  Paestum,  the  book  dies  away 
into  a  sort  of  Journal,  that  records  talks  with  the  Bishop 
of  Gibraltar  and  Pere  Hyacinth,  —  "I  found  him  very 
pleasant  and  intelligent." 


[9S] 


NOTES   ON    FRENCH    CHURCHES 


Ill 

SOME  FRENCH  CHURCHES  CHIEFLY  IN  THE 
ROYAL  DOMAIN 

(From  a  notebook  of  1855) 

June  13. 

SOMER  has  lost  much  of  its  original  interest  by 
the  destruction  wantonly  in  1830  of  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  abbey  of  S.  Bertin.  It  is  wicked, 
but  I  did  not  lament  this  so  much  as  I  should  have 
done,  had  the  church  been  of  rather  earlier  date.  From 
what  now  remains  it  appears  to  have  been  entirely  in 
one  style,  and  that  an  early  phase  of  flamboyant  — 
much  more  like  some  of  our  English  late  rhiddle-pointed 
than  flamboyant,  and  really  very  effective  in  its  mould- 
ings and  sculpture,  the  two  great  tests  of  all  architec- 
ture. The  west  front  and  the  north  wall  of  the  nave 
are  all  that  now  remains  of  the  once  magnificent  church, 
and  the  latter  has  lost  all  its  window  tracery  and  is  in  a 
sad  state  of  decay. 

The  west  doorway  of  the  tower  (which  is  central  at 
the  west  end)  is  fine,  and  has  cut  in  the  lintel  stone  of 
its  door  an  inscription:  —  "CasHssimum  Divi  Bertini 
templum  caste  memento  ingredi.''  The  tympanum  had  a 
painted  subject  and  much  of  the  rest  of  the  stone  work 
still  retains  traces  of  decorative  colour.  The  west  win- 
dow of  the  south  aisle  is  an  unhappy  example  of  the 
worst  kind  of  flamboyant,  the  tower  is  covered  all  over 

[99] 


with  vertical  lines  of  panelling  but  is  nevertheless,  from 
its  great  size,  imposing,  and  indeed  gives  S.  Omer  all 
the  character  it  has  when  seen  from  the  railway.  A  sen- 
tinel keeping  watch  warned  me  off  as  I  was  measuring 
the  aisle:  I  suppose  having  lost  so  much  they  were 
nervously  alive  to  the  chance  of  architects'  hacking  off 
what  remains! 

A  long  winding  street  leads  from  S.  Bertin  at  one  end 
of  it  to  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame  at  the  other. 
This  is  a  church  well  worthy  of  a  visit  for  several  peculi- 
arities and  not  less  for  its  generally  fine  effect,  especially 
in  the  interior. 

The  original  fabric  —  of  which  the  choir  with  its 
aisle  and  two  apsidal  chapels  thrown  out  from  the  aisle, 
and  the  south  transept  and  one  and  a  half  bays  of  the 
north,  are  all  now  remaining —  is  of  the  earliest  pointed, 
with  occasional  round  arches  to  windows,  etc.  The 
character  is  very  simple  and  mainly  remarkable  for  the 
great  beauty  of  the  profusion  of  sculptured  capitals  to 
all  the  shafts.  The  section  of  the  piers  is  singular  and 
gives  great  lightness  of  effect;  they  are  in  fact  thin 
slices  of  wall,  and  not  piers  formed  in  the  usual  way, 
and  as  the  weight  of  them  is  not  a  crushing  weight,  I 
look  upon  them  as  excessively  scientific  in  their  arrange- 
ment. The  triforium  is  very  lofty  as  compared  with 
the  rest  of  the  design,  and  consists  of  a  very  simple 
arcade  of  pointed  arches,  supported  only  by  long  and 
slender  shafts  set  near  together. 

The  groining  is  good,  and  in  the  chapels  a  small  shaft 

rises  from  the  capitals  for  some  feet  and  carries  the  wall 

rib:  this  gets  over  a  difficulty  in  mitring  the  mouldings. 

The  Lady-chapel  appears  to  have  been  remodelled  at 

[  100  ] 


a  later  day  but  upon  the  foundation  of  one  coeval  with 
the  choir.  A  very  grand  effect  is  produced  by  the  great 
size  of  the  transepts  —  which  have  aisles  on  both  sides 
—  and  by  the  placing  of  a  chapel  in  the  re-entering 
angles  between  them  and  the  choir  aisle.  In  this  way 
an  internal  effect  of  lightness  and  space,  of  very  fine 
character,  is  obtained. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  about  this  cathe- 
dral is,  however,  the  extent  to  which,  in  later  days,  the 
old  design  was  persisted  in:  e.g.  the  remarkable  tri- 
forium  is  carried  round  the  entire  church,  varied  a  little 
in  its  details  and  quite  different  in  its  sculpture,  but  still 
evidently  a  copy  and  from  its  great  size  giving  an  air 
of  great  unity  to  the  whole  design.  In  the  clerestory 
windows  generally  there  is  a  good  deal  of  poor  flamboy- 
ant tracery  with  a  little  glass  of  the  same  date,  but  in 
the  choir  the  original  windows  all  happily  remain.  These 
are,  in  the  apse,  rather  wide  lancets,  and  in  the  rest  of 
the  clerestory  simple  triplets.  In  the  aisle  there  were 
windows  of  two  lights  with  a  simple  quatrefoil  above. 
Many  of  the  windows  have  the  dog-tooth  ornament 
round  the  external  labels.  The  choir  still  retains  on  the 
outside  a  very  fine  and  original  corbel  table. 

In  a  chapel  south  of  the  choir  are  extensive  remains 
of  some  most  singular  work  for  pavements  —  they  are 
squares  of  stone  slightly  sunk  in  regular  patterns  and 
then  filled  in  with  some  very  hard  black  or  red  substance. 
The  same  work  is  carried  up  against  the  walls  of  this 
chapel,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  cathedral  are  several 
small  fragments  of  similar  pavements.  The  stone  is  of 
a  yellow  colour  and  the  system  seems  to  admit  of  being 
turned  to  most  useful  account. 
[101] 


Of  the  exterior,  the  south  transept  door  is  about 
the  most  remarkable  feature.  It  is  very  simple,  almost 
plain,  but  nevertheless  its  great  size  and  the  deep  shadow 
cast  by  its  outer  arch  combine  to  make  it  a  very  magnifi- 
cent work.  The  sculpture  of  the  capitals  is  very  good 
and  the  delicate  arcade,  containing  figures  on  either 
side  below  the  base  of  the  columns,  is  thoroughly 
French  in  its  beauty  of  detail  and  exquisite  finish.  Un- 
happily it  has  decayed  much.  There  is  a  stoup  inside 
against  the  pier  dividing  the  doors;  this  is  not  used  now. 
The  western  tower  is  like  that  of  S.  Bertin,  engaged, 
and  has  but  little  to  recommend  it  to  notice. 

In  the  interior  there  is  a  very  fine  high  tomb  of  a 
bishop —  I  think  S.  Omer  —  early  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  about  of  the  same  date  as  the  south  transept 
door.  The  altar  now  stands  on  the  east  side  of  the 
crossing;  either  side  of  it,  a  range  of  music-stools  affords 
fitting  accommodation  for  the  clergy,  whilst  behind, 
stalls  are  arranged  in  the  choir  around  the  apse,  encir- 
cling an  organ  which  stands  about  where  the  altar 
ought  to  stand.  In  front  of  this  organ  is  a  group  of 
music  stands  etc.,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  orches- 
tra. The  choir  is  enclosed  with  high  stone  screens  toward 
the  aisles — old  but  quite  unornamental.  .  .  . 

At  S.  Leu  we  had  a  very  maigre  meal  at  a  small  cafe 
hiliard  close  to  the  station  and  left  at  7.45  for  Senlis. 
The  road  was  rather  pretty  and  took  us  in  sight  of 
Chantilly,  a  prettily  situated  town  on  the  Oise  with  a 
chateau  which  belonged  to  the  Due  d'Aumale.  In 
little  more  than  an  hour  we  rumbled  through  the  old 
■  narrow  street  of  Senlis  and  took  up  our  quarters  at  the 
Grand  Cerf.  Before  dark  we  saw  the  church  of  S.  Pierre, 
[102] 


desecrated  and  used  as  a  cavalry  stable.  A  soldier 
who  spoke  some  English  insisted  on  our  seeing  the 
thirty  "Hawks,"  as  he  called  them,  who  occupied  the 
church.  This  we  agreed  to  in  order  to  see  the  building, 
which  has,  however,  little  to  remark  on  save  its  elaborate 
west  front  and  flamboyant  architecture.  Near  this 
church  is  the  cathedral  and  near  this  a  desecrated  church, 
but  I  must  reserve  them  until  to-morrow. 

June  16. 
My  first  visit  in  the  morning  was  of  course  to  the 
cathedral,  of  which  the  west  front  with  its  magnificent 
south-west  tower  and  spire  is  the  most  delightful  por- 
tion. The  rest  of  the  church,  though  retaining  many 
of  its  old  features  and  arrangements  intact,  has  been 
overlaid  on  the  exterior  with  flamboyant  work  to  an  un- 
pleasant extent.  The  two  transept  fronts  are  very  elab- 
orate and  entirely  in  this  late  style.  At  the  east  end 
some  of  the  chapels  which  surround  the  apse  are  of 
Romanesque  date,  semicircular  in  their  plan  outside 
and  roofed  with  lean-to  roofs  of  stone.  The  west  front 
was  intended  to  have  two  similar  towers  and  spires: 
the  towers  are  both  built  but  only  one  spire.  The  detail 
of  the  lower  portion  is  very  simple,  that  of  the  upper 
part  of  tower  and  spire  very  elaborate  and  covered  with 
ornament  of  varied  description.  The  whole  surface  of 
spire  and  turrets  is  covered  with  patterns  which  contrib- 
ute very  much  to  the  general  richness  of  effect.  The 
most  remarkable  features  are  however  the  open  pin- 
nacles at  the  point  where  the  tower  becomes  octangular, 
and  the  delicate  spire-lights  which  are  set  on  every  side 
of  the  spire  and  rise  nearly  half  its  height.  The  spire- 
lights  are  remarkable  in  their  arrangement  at  the  top; 
[  103  ] 


instead  of  going  back  iiorizontally  at  the  ridge  they  slope 
down  rapidly  to  the  spire  so  as  to  produce  a  very  pi- 
quant effect.  The  detail  of  all  the  sculpture  and  mould- 
ings is  most  carefully  executed  throughout,  and  though 
the  scale  of  the  steeple  is  not  large  it  produces  a  very 
great  effect  of  height.  The  crockets  and  fmials  on 
the  spire  are  very  vigorously  carved. 

The  construction  of  the  spire  is  very  ingenious  and 
allows  of  passage-ways  in  the  wall  to  the  base  of  the 
spire-lights.  At  this  point  it  is  constructed  in  two  thick- 
nesses, one  of  which  slopes  and  forms  the  outer  line  of 
the  spire;  the  other  is  perpendicular  from  the  inside 
face  until  it  meets  the  external  sloping  portion  and  dies 
into  it;  the  two  are  occasionally  bonded  together  with 
large  blocks  of  stone,  and  a  passage-way  is  formed  be- 
tween them.    The  view  from  the  steeple  is  fine. 

Close  to  the  cathedral  on  the  south  is  the  desecrated 
church  of  S.  Frambourg,  a  simple  parallelogram  in  plan 
and  finished  with  an  apse,  rather  broad  and  low  in  its 
proportions,  but  nevertheless  very  effective.  The  groin- 
ing is  all  sexpartite.  The  original  windows  remain  only 
in  the  apse,  and  there  is  but  little  to  be  said  of  the  build- 
ing farther  than  that  its  west  front  is  remarkable  for 
the  outer  line  of  moulding  of  a  prodigious  rose  window, 
(now  blocked  up),  and  for  a  west  doorway  which  though 
mutilated  has  much  beauty.  There  seems  to  have  been 
a  tower  at  the  north-west  of  the  nave.  This  church  is 
now  used  as  a  store  by  a  builder.  .  .  . 

We  left  the  city  of  Senlis  with  some  difficulty.  Im- 
primis we  had  an  extortionate  charge  for  a  bad  kind  of 
accommodation  at  the  Hotel  du  Grand  Cerf,  and  next 
had  great  difficulty  in  getting  places  in  the  omnibus  to 
[104] 


Pont  S.  Maxence.  But  all  is  well  that  ends  well,  and  we 
succeeded,  happily,  in  getting  away.  The  view  of  the 
cathedral  as  the  town  is  left  behind  becomes  very  fine, 
but  it  is  soon  lost  as  the  road  plunges  into  the  woods 
through  which  for  the  best  part  of  the  way  it  runs.  One 
village,  Fleurines,  was  passed,  with  a  poor  late  church; 
some  large  stone  granaries  are  passed  and  then  the  long 
street  of  Pont  S.  Maxence.  The  Oise  is  crossed  at  its 
end  and  a  few  hundred  yards  bring  us  to  the  station; 
from  hence  we  booked  to  Noyon,  passing  on  the  way 
Compiegne,  which  has  an  old  town  hall  and  two  churches, 
one  of  which,  as  seen  from  the  distance,  seems  likely  to 
repay  examination.  Noyon  was  reached  at  four  o'clock 
and  we  walked  off  to  the  cathedral  which  towers  up 
most  conspicuously  above  the  town. 

The  general  character  of  the  church  is,  internally, 
much  the  same  as  that  of  S.  Leu,  etc.,  but  it  is  very  much 
loftier  and  has  a  singular  arrangement  into  four  stages 
in  height.     There  are  in  the  nave: —  1.  the  arcades, 

2.  the  triforium,  very  large,  with  windows  and  groined, 

3.  a  small  arcade  more  like  an  prdinary  triforium,  and 

4.  a  clerestory.  In  the  transepts  there  is  no  groined 
triforium  and  the  two  upper  stages,  being  of  similar 
height  and  both  of  them  glazed,  give  the  impression  of 
a  double  clerestory.  I  do  not  at  all  like  this  quadruple 
arrangement  of  the  interior.  The  columns  of  the  nave 
are  alternately  of  clustered  and  single  shafts.  The 
groining  is  divided  into  compartments  of  two  bays  by 
reason  of  the  transverse  ribs  from  the  clustered  piers 
being  much  larger  than  any  of  the  others.  Both  the 
transepts  terminate  with  apses  and  there  are  many 
very  noble  points  in  the  internal  effect.    Here  as  at  S. 

[105] 


Leu  the  aisles  are  very  narrow  compared  to  the  width 
of  the  nave,  and  the  spaces  between  the  columns  of  the 
arcades  are  also  very  small  indeed.  Of  the  exterior,  the 
west  end  is  perhaps  the  more  striking  part.  It  has  two 
immense  and  very  simple  towers  with  a  grand  triple 
porch  in  front  of  its  three  great  doorways.  This  porch 
was  constructed  weakly  and  has  been  boldly  buttressed 
up.  North  of  the  north-west  tower  is  a  long  building 
connected  with  the  church,  of  exquisite  beauty,  and  other 
old  buildings  enclose  a  considerable  space  on  the  north 
side  of  the  cathedral.  These  buildings  are  remarkable, 
inter  alia,  for  the  bold  foliage  which  is  introduced  be- 
neath the  parapets  in  a  fashion  very  popular  in  this  part 
of  France. 

There  is  a  small  porch  of  fine  early  pointed  character 
on  the  east  side  of  the  north  transept  and  above  it  a  very 
fine  rose  window.  The  ground  at  the  east  end  is  planted 
out  in  a  garden  and  the  whole  effect  of  the  choir  with 
the  restored  steep  roofs  above  the  apsidal  chapels  is 
very  noble.  There  is  what  appears  to  be  a  distinct  church 
(now  desecrated)  attached  to  the  east  side  of  the  south 
transept.  It  is  of  simple  early  pointed  and  has  in  each 
bay  two  lancets  and  a  round  window  above.  It  has 
several  bays  of  length,  and  an  apse,  and  is  parallel  with 
the  choir.  Careful  works  of  restoration  are  going  on 
here.  I  saw  no  trace  of  any  other  old  building,  saving 
a  portion  of  very  late  domestic  work. 

We  left  Noyon  at  8.40  and  reached  S.  Quentin  at 
10  P.M.  .  .  . 

June  17. 

I  turned  out  early  and  got  a  sketch  of  the  great  church 
before  breakfast.     Its  height  is  very  imposing  but  in 
[106] 


its  general  character  it  disappointed  my  rather  high 
expectations.  It  appears  to  me  to  be  a  kind  of  late  imi- 
tation of  early  work.  For  instance  the  triforium  and 
clerestory  have  almost  geometrical  tracery  differing  only 
in  slight  points  from  the  best  kind  of  geometrical  work. 
The  proportions  too  are  good  and  the  groining  very 
simple.  Many  of  the  shafts  in  the  choir  are  single 
columns,  but  the  carving  of  their  capitals  is  very 
inferior  to  that  I  have  seen  elsewhere.  The  choir  has,  too, 
a  triforium  which  seems  to  be  much  earlier  than  that 
of  the  nave,  probably  early  in  the  thirteenth  century. 
One  of  the  best  features  is  the  management  of  the  chapels 
and  aisles  round  the  apse.  There  are  two  transepts; 
the  eastern  one  does  not  show  however  in  the  ground 
plan.  The  tower  was  central  at  the  west  end,  but  has 
been  all  modernized  and  does  not  now  rise  above  the 
immense  pointed  roof  of  the  nave,  so  that  in  the  distance 
the  church  wants  distinctness  of  character  and  outline, 
badly.  The  flying  buttresses  are  very  elaborate  and  are 
steadied  by  arches  thrown  across  from  pinnacle  to 
pinnacle,  so  as  to  keep  them  from  falling  laterally; 
notwithstanding  these  precautions  the  church  has  fallen 
out  so  much  in  some  parts  as  to  look  very  unsafe. 

In  the  market  place  there  is  a  quaint  old  town  hall 
standing  on  open  arches  and  rather  elaborate  in  its  de- 
tails but  very  late  in  its  date.  There  was  less  to  interest 
in  S.  Quentin  than  in  most  places  I  have  visited  as  yet, 
so  I  was  very  well  able  to  get  away  at  11  to  Tergnier  by 
railway;  here  we  waited  for  an  hour  and  then  started 
in  a  slow  diligence  for  Laon  through  La  Fere  and  Crepy. 
I  could  not  see  any  church  in  the  former  place,  but  in 
the  latter  —  a  good  sized  village  —  are  two,  both  of 
[107] 


first-pointed  date  and  one  with  a  remarkably  good 
chancel  having  an  east  window  and  side  windows  of  two 
lights  with  a  distinct  circular  window  above,  and  all 
adorned  with  dog-tooth  ornaments.  The  other  was 
remarkable  for  a  very  striking  western  porch.  The  road 
was  pretty  and  soon  after  passing  Crepy  brought  us  in 
sight  of  the  cathedral  of  Laon  crowning  its  noble  hill 
in  right  royal  style.  A  drenching  storm  of  rain  pre- 
vented our  seeing  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  view  as 
we  climbed  the  steep  road  that  winds  round  the  hill 
into  the  town,  but  in  the  evening  when  we  walked  round 
the  ramparts  we  found  that  it  was  one  of  most  uncom- 
mon magnificence  —  a  vast  expanse  of  flat  country  gen- 
erally green  in  its  colour,  dotted  here  and  there  with 
woods  or  villages,  and  bounded  in  some  parts  of  the 
horizon  with  distant  hills.  .  .  . 

Our  first  object  in  the  morning  was  the  cathedral. 
The  original  idea  of  the  church  (which  is  said  to  have 
been  built  in  the  extraordinarily  short  space  of  two  years) 
was  a  great  nave,  choir  and  transepts,  the  west  front  and 
both  the  transept  fronts  being  flanked  with  two  towers 
of  nearly  equal  height  and  even  fairly  similar  design. 
Four  of  these  were  completed,  those  on  the  east  side  of 
the  transepts  having  been  only  carried  up  to  the  height 
of  the  roof  gables.  There  is  a  combination  of  intense 
simplicity  with  an  intricate  and  delicate  transparent 
effect  in  the  open  pinnacles  at  the  angles  which  is  wonder- 
fully fine.  The  scale  is  larger  and  the  whole  treatment 
though  similar  is  finer  than  that  of  Senlis,  and  though  it 
was  imitated  it  was  not,  I  think,  rivalled,  even  in  the 
magnificent  steeples  at  Rheims. 

There  is  a  lantern  at  the  intersection  of  the  nave  and 
[108] 


transepts  which,  had  it  been  carried  up  some  vast  height 
above  the  other  towers,  might  possibly  have  helped  to 
reduce  them  all  to  order;  but  there  is  no  sign  of  any 
such  intention,  and  the  only  reason  for  it  that  can  be 
seen  is  the  desire  to  elevate  the  groining  at  the  inter- 
section to  a  great  height  above  the  rest  of  the  roof.  I 
have  sketched  and  measured  these  towers  so  carefully 
that  1  shall  say  no  more  about  them,  save  that  they  are 
groined  just  below  the  summit  and  that  they  were 
evidently  intended  for  some  further  finish  than  they  now 
have,  probably  for  spires  like  those  at  Senlis. 

The  interior  of  Laon  is  singularly  like  that  of  Noyon, 
having  the  same  double  triforium,  but  being  finished 
at  the  east  with  a  square  end  instead  of  an  apse.  Going 
from  one  church  to  another  differing  only  in  this  respect 
seemed  to  give  the  best  possible  means  of  ascertaining 
with  some  degree  of  certainty  their  relative  merits;  and 
certainly  it  seemed  to  me  that,  of  the  two,  Noyon  was 
incomparably  the  superior,  and  entirely  on  this  account. 
The  east  end  of  Laon  is  nevertheless  fine  for  a  square 
east  end,  and  has  the  windows  filled  with  very  magnifi- 
cent old  glass  of  deep  colour.  The  altar  is  now  brought 
forward  one  bay  so  as  to  leave  a  passage  beneath  the 
east  window. 

The  capitals  generally  of  this  church  are  very  finely 
treated  and  would  afford  endless  examples  of  good  work 
in  this  early  style.  In  studying  the  church  one  of  the 
features  most  to  be  noticed  is  the  frequent  recurrence  of 
carved  courses  of  foliage  which  everywhere  take  the 
place  of  moulded  string  courses. 

The  south  transept  has  double  doorways,  and  above 
them  a  very  beautiful  rose  window.  This  has  now 
[109] 


become  curious  because  by  its  side  tiiere  is  the  jamb  of 
a  middle-pointed  window,  evidently  inserted  by  some 
ambitious  man  who  was  going  on  to  put  in  an  entirely 
new  window  but  who  was  happily  stopped  here;  I  say 
"here"  because  he  was  unhappily  not  stopped  in  the 
south  transept  and  so  we  have  to  regret  the  loss  of  a 
grand  window  suitable  to  the  building  and  the  insertion 
of  one  which  in  no  way  improves  it.  On  the  north  side 
of  the  choir  a  great  alteration  was  made  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  by  throwing  out  the  outer  walls  to  the 
face  of  the  buttresses  in  order  to  gain  a  considerable 
number  of  chapels.  This  was  done  in  very  good  style 
indeed  and  much  improves  this  part  of  the  exterior. 

The  only  apsidal  terminations  in  the  whole  church  are 
those  of  two  chapels  thrown  out  on  the  east  side  of  the 
transepts.  They  are  carried  up  three  stages  in  height,  one 
of  which  opens  into  the  transept  aisle  and  the  two  others 
form  another  chapel  out  of  the  magnificent  triforium. 

Round  the  east  end  of  the  cathedral  are  large  remains 
of  old  buildings  of  early  date,  connected  probably  with 
the  church  (which,  by  the  by,  is  said  to  have  been  built 
in  A.D.  1113  and  1114,  dates  which  seem  to  me  to  be  at 
least  fifty  years  too  early  for  such  a  structure).  The 
main  portion  of  these  buildings  consists  of  a  long  pile 
opening  to  a  sort  of  garth  or  cloister,  north-east  of  the 
cathedral,  with  simple  pointed  arches  supported  on  low 
circular  columns,  and  showing  on  the  other  side  the 
elevation  which  I  have  sketched  roughly,  and  which, 
standing  just  at  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  looks  on  a  vast 
expanse  of  country  until  the  far  distance  is  lost  in  mist. 
These  buildings  are  now  converted  into  some  Courts  of 
Law,  store  houses  and  lumber  rooms. 
[110] 


The  Bishop  of  Laon  lives  elsewhere  I  fancy,  as  our 
landlord  made  much  of  his  having  come  expressly  to 
join  in  a  procession  through  the  city  which  we  witnessed 
on  Sunday  afternoon.  This  procession  was  new  to  me 
and  may  as  well  be  recorded:  it  visited  a  number  of 
altars  got  up  in  a  temporary  manner,  elevated  on  high 
flights  of  steps,  and  decorated  profusely  with  flowers, 
garlands  and  drapery.  These  were  erected  in  every 
available  space,  and  I  suppose  by  the  zeal  of  the  neigh- 
bors in  each  locality.  As  the  time  for  the  procession 
came,  all  the  good  people  of  the  city  hung  up  white 
sheets  over  the  fronts  of  their  shops  so  that  the  whole 
street  bore  a  most  singular  appearance,  though  the  uni- 
versal white  was  here  and  there  relieved  by  the  old  pieces 
of  tapestry  with  some  sacred  story  on  it  hung  out  by 
some  more  well-to-do  person. 

Presently  through  the  dense  crowd  came  the  proces- 
sion —  first,  girls  bearing  banners  and  draped  in  white, 
then  other  banners,  clergy,  acolytes,  censer-bearers  and 
lastly  the  bishop  under  a  square  velvet  baldachin  car- 
ried by  priests,  walking  between  two  priests,  bearing  a 
monstrance  with  the  Host. 

At  intervals  the  censer-bearers  turned  and  censed  and 
then  went  on  again,  till  they  reached  an  altar,  which 
the  bishop  always  ascended  and  gave  the  benediction 
from  it,  displaying  the  Host  to  the  people  all  kneeling 
below.  The  procession  was  followed  and  kept  in  some 
order  by  soldiers  whose  band,  alternately  with  the 
choristers,  accompanied  the  march.  In  half  an  hour 
after  the  return  of  the  bishop  from  his  rather  long  pro- 
cession the  town  had  resumed  its  old  look,  the  white 
sheets  were  gone,  and  the  altars  pulled  down  or  denuded 

C  111  ] 


of  all  their  ornaments.  All  the  towns  we  had  been  in 
had  been  preparing  for  the  same  fete,  which  was  to  be 
greatest  at  Lille,  where  ''Notre  Dame  de  la  Treille"  — 
whose  day  it  was — is  looked  on  as  the  patron  of  the  city. 

From  the  cathedral  we  went  to  the  church  of  S. 
Martin  at  the  other  end  of  the  main  street.  The  general 
effect  of  the  exterior  is  very  good,  and  very  superior  to 
the  interior,  —  which  is  very  simple,  rather  bad  in  its 
design,  and  much  modernized.  The  south  transept  front 
is  very  fine  and  remarkable  for  the  boldness  of  the  mould- 
ings on  its  buttresses  and  strings.  The  west  front  is, 
after  this,  the  finest  portion  of  the  building,  being  a 
very  ornate  addition  in  middle-pointed  to  the  old  Roman- 
esque church.    It  is  very  picturesque  and  I  liked  it  much. 

From  the  church  we  turned  down  into  a  walk  which 
follows  the  line  of  the  old  ramparts  and  nearly  surrounds 
the  city.  The  view,  from  this  part  of  it,  of  the  cathedral 
standing  on  a  sort  of  promontory,  with  the  cluster  of 
houses  around  it,  the  vine-covered  hill  sloping  down 
rapidly  to  the  valley  on  the  right,  and  then  the  flat  vale, 
lined  all  over  with  rows  of  poplars,  and  finished  against 
the  horizon  with  fine  hills,  was  most  charming.  Indeed 
I  have  never  seen  any  town  of  which  the  views  were  so  in- 
variably magnificent  as  they  are  always  round  old  Laon. 
We  saw  no  other  old  church  here,  save  one  below  the 
hill  with  a  central  tower  and  low  spire,  which  looked  at 
all  as  though  it  might  be  worth  visiting.  In  the  street 
close  to  the  south  transept  of  the  cathedral  is  a  gable 
end  of  a  good  middle-pointed  house. 

We  left  Laon  in  the  coupe  of  a  small  diligence  at  6 
P.M.  for  Rheims,  grateful  in  the  extreme  for  the  one  fine 
day  which  we  had  as  yet  had  —  nowhere  so  grateful  as 
[112] 


here,  where  every  turn  disclosed  some  view  or  some  sub- 
ject of  which  a  bright  sun  was  the  most  indispensable 
adjunct. 

Our  going  to  Rheims  afforded  no  incidents.  When  we 
crossed  the  hills  from  Laon  and  descended  towards  the 
broad  valley  of  Champagne  we  had  a  most  glorious 
view,  simple  in  all  its  detail,  but  full  of  beautiful  colour, 
and  rich  and  verdant  in  the  extreme.  One  small  village 
we  passed  on  the  way  had  a  church  of  which  I  man- 
aged to  get  a  sketch  while  we  changed  horses.  I 
went  inside  and  found  the  whole  church  fitted  with 
open  seats  on  a  raised  wooden  floor.  The  central  tower 
is  groined  and  has  only  a  small  apse  to  the  east,  and  the 
effect  of  this  inside  is  exceedingly  good.  The  south 
aisle  consists  of  a  series  of  compartments  running  north 
and  south,  the  roofs  boarded  on  the  under  side  and 
coved  or  canted,  and  descending  not  on  arches  across 
the  aisle  but  on  beams.  The  steeple  was,  I  think,  the 
only  part  groined.  From  this  village  to  Rheims  our 
journey  was  made  in  the  dark  and  it  was  nearly  eleven 
as  we  drove  along  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  walls 
of  the  cathedral  and  into  the  gate  of  the  inn  which  faces 
its  west  front,  where  happily  we  found  rest  for  our 
weary  limbs.  .  .  . 

June  19. 

It  rained  fast  when  I  turned  out  early  this  morning 
and  continued  to  do  so  perseveringly  all  the  day.  This 
was  miserable  and  perhaps  has  made  my  recollection 
of  Rheims  less  pleasant  than  it  ought  to  be. 

The  west  front  with  its  three  great  doorways  is  very 
magnificent.     The  two  steeples,  which  are  developments 
from  the  Laon  idea,  and  like  Laon  unfinished,  are  at  pres- 
[113] 


ent  not  large  enough  for  the  porch  and  look  too  much 
like  turrets,  and  yet  they  are  of  immense  size.  The 
substitution  of  second-pointed  mouldings  in  these  steeples 
for  the  first-pointed  shafts  of  those  at  Laon,  is  unfortu- 
nately not  an  improvement.  The  whole  porch  is  cov- 
ered in  the  most  lavish  manner  with  elaborate  sculpture 
of  the  very  finest  character  and  detail,  but  it  is  gener- 
ally spread  over  the  whole  surface  and  gives  perhaps  an 
effect  of  littleness  and  fritter  to  the  whole  front.  The 
detail  of  the  pinnacles  and  flying  buttresses  at  the  sides 
is  unusually  fine,  and  all  of  the  same  fine  early  middle- 
pointed  date  —  that  of  the  apse  and  the  chapels  sur- 
rounding it  is  equally  fine.  The  northern  transept  is 
also  a  fine  composition,  but  the  parapets  were  intended 
to  have  flanking  towers  and  these  are  carried  up  in  the 
same  way  as  those  both  at  Rouen  and  Chartres,  hardly 
on  a  sufficient  scale  to  be  looked  on  as  towers.  Their 
great  open  belfry  windows  produce  a  fine  effect.  The 
three  doors  of  the  north  transept  are  all  very  fine,  though 
the  sculpture  on  some  of  them  is  of  earlier  date  than  that 
of  the  west  front,  and  of  very  ingenious  execution. 

On  entering,  the  impression  produced  is  one  of  ex- 
quisite proportions,  colour,  and  decoration,  but  per- 
haps a  little  too  much  of  all  this  and  not  so  much  of 
that  indescribable  feeling  which  some  noble  churches  so 
eminently  produce.  It  is  in  fact  a  work  of  faultless  art 
rather  than  religious  feeling,  though  so  noble  a  work  of 
art  cannot  help  inspiring  great  religious  feeling.  The 
whole  design  is  extremely  simple  and  as  free  from  su- 
perfluous decoration  as  the  west  front  is  crowded  with 
it.  Its  triforium  appeared  to  be  poor  and  insignificant 
in  the  extreme,  after  the  magnificent  triforia  of  Noyon 
[114] 


and  the  other  early  churches  with  their  ampler  open 
spaces  and  fine  groinings.  The  treatment  of  the  west 
wall  on  the  inside  is  very  curious.  It  is  divided  into  a 
great  number  of  trefoiled  niches  with  very  little  in  the 
way  of  moulding,  each  niche  having  a  figure;  and  the 
background  being  coloured  white  throws  out  these 
figures  remarkably.  Borders,  spandrels,  etc.,  are  filled 
in  profusely  with  much  delicately  carved  and  very 
flat  foliage,  all  most  accurately  copied  from  natural 
forms.  In  the  north  transept  is  a  curious  wooden  clock- 
case  of  the  fourteenth  century.  .  .  .  We  left  Rheims 
at  6  o'clock  in  the  evening  by  railway  for  Meaux  where 
we  arrived  to  sleep  at  11. 

June  20. 

As  is  my  wont,  I  was  very  early  at  the  cathedral  this 
morning.  The  scale  is  not  large,  and  in  particular  the 
nave  is  singularly  short,  only  three  bays  east  of  the 
towers.  One  tower  only  is  completed,  and  that  in  a 
flamboyant  style.  The  church  is  very  open  inside,  hav- 
ing two  aisles,  and  chapels  on  each  side  of  the  nave  and 
a  good  arrangement  of  chapels,  etc.,  around  the  choir. 
The  great  beauty  of  the  interior  is  its  generally  fine 
style  —  very  early  third-pointed  —  the  beauty  of  the 
triforia,  and  the  particularly  fine  interior  of  the  transepts. 
I  managed  to  get  some  sketches  to  show  its  general 
character  before  we  left,  which  was  at  11  a.m.  for  Paris, 
and  there  seemed  to  be  no  old  buildings  of  any  interest 
in  Meaux,  though  I  saw  one  old  pile  with  corner  turrets 
near  the  cathedral. 

We  reached  Paris  at  12.30  having  noticed  a  fine-look- 
ing church  on  our  way,  at  the  station  of  Lagny,  which 
well  deserves  a  visit.  .  .  . 

C  115  ] 


June  22. 

Wrote  letters  and  then  to  Notre  Dame.  ...  A  fee 
gave  me  admittance  to  the  new  sacristy  and  small 
cloister.  The  detail  of  this  is  all  very  good,  save  the 
doorways;  and  the  glass,  which  is  a  grisaille  with  sub- 
jects boldly  drawn  on  glass  of  very  pale  tincture  but 
thick  in  texture,  was  very  good  indeed.  The  encaustic 
tiles  used  here  are  very  inferior  to  ours.  ...  On  our 
way  we  just  looked  at  the  S.  Chapelle,  the  new  turret 
on  which  appears  to  me  to  be  most  unsatisfactory. 

At  12.20  we  left  Paris  for  Evreux,  going  by  railway 
to  Vernon  station.  I  expected  much  here  and  was  much 
disappointed.  The  cathedral  is  a  building  whose  sub- 
stratum is  good  first-pointed,  but  this  has  been  over- 
laid by  an  accumulation  of  late  flamboyant  work,  so  as 
to  be  almost  invisible.  The  west  front  has  been  rebuilt 
in  bad  classic.  The  north  transept  is  a  rich  and  pictur- 
esque piece  of  flamboyant  work  of  the  most  ornate  kind, 
and  has  across  its  angles  internally  some  immense 
squ inches  to  carry  a  passage  from  the  aisle  to  the  end 
walls.  A  great  deal  of  very  good  grisaille  glass  of  the  thir- 
teenth century  has  been  retained  in  the  flamboyant  win- 
dows, and  in  the  others  there  is  a  good  deal  of  late  stained 
glass  which  seems  to  be  of  fair  quality.  The  church  in- 
ternally is  very  narrow  in  proportion  to'  its  height  and 
looks  consequently  more  lofty  than  it  really  is.  The 
other  church  at  Evreux,  S.  Taurin,  is  a  Romanesque 
church  altered  in  flamboyant  and  adorned  with  a  west 
front  of  pseudo-classic.  It  is  a  fine  church,  and  its  main 
ornament  is  the  magnificent  shrine  of  S.  Taurin,  of 
which  I  managed  to  get  some  slight  sketches.  It  is  of 
silver  or  other  metal,  gilt,  with  some  very  good  ornamen- 
[116] 


tation  in  enamel  and  niello.  In  the  south  transept  wall 
is  an  arcade  filled  in  with  coloured  tiles,  but  it  hardly 
looks  as  if  it  would  be  original;  nevertheless,  it  is  said 
to  be  so  and  I  see  no  reason  for  supposing  it  likely  that 
such  an  enrichment  would  have  been  subsequently 
added  in  such  a  place. 

June  23. 

We  left  Evreux  at  7  a.m.  for  S.  Pierre  station  and 
passed  through  Louviers  on  the  way.  I  had  only  time 
to  run  in  for  two  minutes  to  look  at  the  cathedral.  It 
is  like  Evreux,  an  early  pointed  church  with  flamboyant 
alterations,  but  its  scale  is  small.  The  triforium  and 
clerestory  in  first-pointed  are  very  good,  with  relieving 
arches  inside.  .  .  . 

We  reached  Rouen  at  11  and  though  I  had  seen  all 
its  curiosities  before,  I  was  glad  to  have  another  oppor- 
tunity of  looking  at  them.  The  cathedral  gains  rather 
than  loses  in  my  estimation.  Its  general  proportions 
are  fine  and  all  its  detail  admirably  good.  Unfortunately 
it  is  whitewashed  and  not  much  cared  for,  and  so  people 
fancy  it  a  poor  church.  It  is  on  the  contrary  very  fine, 
and  much  finer  in  all  ways  than  its  rival  S.  Ouen.  .  .  . 

After  the  cathedral  almost  everything  in  Rouen  is  very 
late  in  style  and  unsatisfactory  therefore;  it  is  an  inter- 
esting town  in  many  ways  but  in  no  way  to  be  compared 
with  such  a  town  as  Cologne  for  real  architectural  interest. 

In  the  evening  I  made  a  sketch  of  the  north-west 
tower,  which  with  its  quaint  slated  roof  is  a  most  pic- 
turesque composition.  Indeed  the  whole  west  front  is 
very  grand  and  broad  in  its  effect,  whenever  it  can  be 
seen  without  the  detestable  new  cast-iron  spire  of  the 
central  steeple.  ... 

[117] 


June  24. 

We  left  Rouen  by  diligence  for  Lisieux  at  7  a.m.  The 
ride  is  for  much  of  the  way  very  pretty,  notably  so  between 
Rouen  and  Elboeuf,  and  again  about  Brienne,  a  small 
town  with  two  churches,  one  of  them  undergoing  some 
restoration  of  not  good  character.  At  Bourgtheroulde  I 
went  into  the  church  and  found  all  the  roofs  of  wood, 
arched  and  boarded,  with  tie-beams  and  ring-posts.  .  .  . 

We  reached  Lisieux  at  3  p.m.  It  was  a  fair  day,  and 
the  place  in  front  of  the  cathedral  was  crowded  with 
people,  shows  and  booths.  The  church  was  very  full, 
and  in  the  choir,  suspended  on  a  beam,  were  three  great 
new  bells  just  made,  and  I  suppose  in  process  of  being 
blessed  before  being  hung  in  the  tower. 

The  whole  church  is  very  fine  and  of  nearly  uniform 

date,  the  choir  rather  mo^e  advanced  first-pointed  than 

the  nave  and  with  a  late  Lady-chapel  added.    The 

triforium  of  the  choir  is  very  charming;  and  here  and  in 

the  side  windows  of  the  choir  aisle  —  also  very  beautiful 

—  there  is  a  great  fondness  displayed  for  cusped  circles 

sunk  slightly  in  plain  wal ling-spaces,  as  also  in  the 

spandrels  of  arches,  etc.    This  is  the  case  notably  in  the 

west  front  and   again  in  the  fine  north-west  steeple, 

where  bands  of  circles  are  used  as  strings.    This  was 

seen  also  in  the  steeple  of  Senlis.    In  the  west  front, 

which  has  been  elaborately  restored,  the  side  doorways 

are  small  but  very  beautiful,  finishing  with  trefoil  heads 

and  remarkable  for  the  great  masses  of  regular  foliage 

round  their  arches  in  place  of  mouldings.    These  are 

used  with  the  happiest  effect.^     The  exterior  of  the 

1  The  same  ornamentation  appears  in  the  doorways  opening  out  of 
the  Great  Cloister  at  Las  Huelgas  (province  of  Burgos,  Spain).  — 
G.  G.  K. 

[118] 


south  transept  is  also  a  fine  simple  composition  and 
the  interior  of  this  and  of  the  north  transept  are  spe- 
cially good.  The  church  is  apsidal  with  two  chapels  be- 
sides the  Lady-chapel. 

The  music  used  here  was  strictly  Gregorian;  so  also 
at  S.  James's,  where  the  congregation  joined  most  heart- 
ily. .  .  .  The  two  western  towers  are  very  different, 
that  on  the  south-west  early  and  for  a  number  of  stages 
of  Romanesque  work;  the  other  very  beautiful,  and  in 
its  belfry  stage  giving  a  type  for  others  —  as  especially 
S.  Pierre  and  others  in  Caen  —  to  copy.  The  north- 
west steeple  has  no  spire  and  that  of  the  other  has  been 
much  modernized.  There  is  a  low  central  tower  which 
forms  a  fine  lofty  lantern  internally. 

The  only  other  mediaeval  church  in  Lisieux  is  on  a 
large  scale  but  entirely  of  poor  flamboyant  work.  We 
were  there  whilst  a  collection  was  being  made;  a  Gre- 
gorian psalm  was  sung  and  the  collection  was  made  by  a 
priest  first  and  then  by  a  little  girl  dressed  up  very 
smartly  in  white.  There  was  a  crowded  congregation 
composed  mostly  of  women. 

A  good  many  old  wooden  houses  remain  in  the  streets 
of  Lisieux;  few  however  are  of  very  rare  character  and 
all  seemed  of  the  latest  date.  Our  inn  was  dirty,  dis- 
agreeable, but  cheap,  —  two"  dinners,  two  beds  and  ser- 
vants coming  to  8  francs  only!  But  its  merits  were  so 
questionable  that  we  were  very  glad  to  find  ourselves 
on  our  way  to  Caen.  We  left  at  6  a.m.  and  arrived 
there  at  10.  There  were  one  or  two  fine  views  on  the 
road,  but  otherwise  it  had  no  interest  until  the  many 
towers  and  spires  of  Caen  rose  before  us.  ...  I  had 
seen  Caen  before,  but  five  years  had  left  me  so  far  for- 
[119] 


getful  of  the  detail  of  its  beauties  as  to  be  heartily  glad 
to  discover  them  again. 

The  church  of  S.  Pierre  was  close  to  our  inn  and  its 
spire  was  first  of  all  looked  at.  It  is  certainly  very 
glorious  but  not  original.  The  spire  is  copied  from  S. 
^tienne  and  the  tower  is  a  repetition  of  what  seems  to 
have  been  the  one  idea  of  a  tower  in  this  part  of  France. 
Lisieux  has  an  early  example,  and  so  too  have  Bret- 
teville,  Norrey  and  others;  but  giving  up  the  point  of  his 
originality,  the  architect  of  S.  Pierre  must  nevertheless 
have  great  credit  for  his  mode  of  working  up  old  ideas.  S. 
Jean  and  Notre  Dame  in  Caen  have  steeples  copied  from 
S.  Pierre,  so  that  we  have  here  an  instance  of  the  same 
design  being  reproduced  for  three  hundred  years  again 
and  again,  dressed  only  in  different  detail.  This  is  a  most 
curious  fact  and  one  not  often  paralleled,  I  think.  .  .  . 
The  discussion  in  detail  of  the  many  churches  in  Caen 
seems  hardly  to  call  for  printing  as  mere  record,  for 
the  ground  has  been  well  covered  by  later  travellers  and 
not,  this  time,  reached  by  the  German  army. 

June  26. 
To-day  we  changed  our  diligence  travelling  for  a  more 
agreeable  mode,  by  hiring  a  phaeton  to  take  us  to  Bay- 
eux  in  order  that  we  might  be  able  to  stop  on  our  way 
at  one  or  two  churches. 

At  8  A.M.,  we  started;  the  view  of  Caen  on  leaving  is 
fine,  its  towers  and  spires  standing  up  well  against  the 
sky.  A  village  is  passed  very  soon  with  an  early  church 
whose  bell-tower  on  the  chancel  end  is  of  good  character. 
One  or  two  steeples  with  saddleback  roofs  are  seen 
near  the  road,  and  at  the  end  of  about  seven  or  eight 
miles  the  tall  spire  of  Bretteville  I'Orgueilleuse  rises  on 
[120] 


the  road.    The  design  is  most  curiously  like  S.  Pierre, 
Caen,  but  it  is  earlier  and  has  been  much  mutilated. 
All  the  piercings  in  the  spire  are  filled  in,  and  one  only 
of  the  spire  lights  remains  in  its  place,  though  there  are 
evident  traces  of  others  having  existed.     The  tower 
rises  above  the  chancel  and  east  of  it  is  a  sacrarium  of 
the  same  date,  square-ended  and  with  two  lancets  in 
the  east  wall,  but  groined  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  one 
think  that  its  architect  could  not  forget  his  apsidal 
terminations.    The  nave  is  modern,  or  perhaps  I  should 
rather  say  modernized.    The  windows  of  the  tower  and 
sacrarium  and  the  doorway  in  the  north  wall  of  the 
former,  are  of  very  good  detail  —  the  transition  from 
Romanesque.     There  is  a  piscina  in  the  south  wall. 
East  of  this  chancel  has  been  built  within  the  last  year 
or  two  a  most  frightful  sacristy,  intended  I  suppose  to 
be  pagan  but  at  present  not  very  definite,  as  all  the 
stones  which  compose  its  wall  are  built  up  in  block  to 
be  hewn  out  afterwards.    This  of  course  blocks  up  the 
curious  east  end,  but  the  priest  to  whom  I  protested 
against  this  wanton  piece  of  barbarism  made  very  light 
of  the  matter.    I  cannot  see  that  the  clergy  anywhere 
take  the  interest  that  one  would  expect  in  such  matters, 
for  I  have  seen  nowhere  any  restorations  of  at  all  proper 
character,  except  such  as  are  being  carried  out  by  gov- 
ernment with  public  funds. 

From  Bretteville  a  drive  of  about  a  mile  brought  us 
to  Norrey,  whose  church  is  so  remarkable  that  I  meas- 
ured its  plan  and  sketched  many  of  its  details. 

It  consists  of  a  nave  without  aisles  and  a  choir  and 
transepts  with  aisles  and  two  apsidal  chapels  to  the 
choir  aisle.    The  nave  is  similar  in  its  detail  of  windows 
[121] 


and  doors  to  Bretteville,  and  in  no  way  worth  particular 
notice,  but  the  rest  of  the  church  is  most  singular.  Its 
decorations  are  extremely  elaborate,  the  mouldings  and 
ornamental  carvings  being  carved  out  with  a  depth  of 
elaborate  elegance  seldom  rivalled.  The  mouldings  are 
singularly  deep  and  effective,  and  the  carving  all  very 
good.  The  style  is  throughly  good  pure  first-pointed, 
and  looks  more  like  English  work  than  foreign.  The 
dimensions  are  exceedingly  small,  the  width  in  the  clear 
of  the  choir  being  only  about  sixteen  feet  and  of  the 
aisle  not  seven  feet,  whilst  some  of  the  intercolumniations 
are  not  more  than  three  feet  and  a  half  and  three  feet 
ten  inches.  The  plan  is  nevertheless  similar  in  all 
respects  to  that  of  a  large  church  of  the  first  order, 
save  in  the  absence  of  a  central  chapel  at  the  east  end, 
and  it  is  therefore  much  more  properly  called  a  "model 
cathedral"  than  churches  so  dignified  generally  are. 
The  piscinae  of  the  chapels  are  good  and  have  one  orifice 
and  a  large  space  of  shelf.  One  of  the  altars  is  original 
and  has  a  mass  of  masonry  under  it  for,  I  suppose, 
relics.  The  whole  church  is  in  the  most  wretchedly 
damp,  dirty  and  neglected  state,  and  a. disgrace  to  all 
who  have  any  charge  of  it. 

The  main  entrance  is  now  by  a  beautiful  porch  to  the 
north  transept,  which  is,  unfortunately,  rapidly  decay- 
ing —  as  much  of  the  other  work  executed  in  Caen  stone 
is  doing  everywhere.  The  small  chapels  of  the  apse  are 
roofed  with  most  extraordinary  stone  roofs,  of  very 
steep  pitch,  which  at  a  little  distance  look  like  two  great 
pinnacles,  and  when  seen  close  at  hand  look  like  nothing 
else  that  ever  was  built  or  designed.  There  are  very 
curious  marks,  in  the  exterior,  of  a  change  of  plan  in 
[122] 


some  respects  as  the  work  went  on,  some  of  the  choir 
windows  having  been  commenced  with  most  elaborate 
mouldings  outside  as  well  as  inside,  but  altered  either 
in  one  jamb  or  at  their  heads  into  a  plain  double  chamfer, 
in  a  most  singular  manner.  There  is  some  good  arcading 
commenced  outside,  and  a  beautiful  arcade  runs  all 
round  the  inside  wall  below  the  windows.  The  tower  is 
just  like  Bretteville,  but  the  spire  must  have  differed 
considerably  from  it;  unhappily  it  was  struck  by  light- 
ning some  twelve  years  since,  and  there  is  now  a  poor 
slated  roof  in  place  of  the  spire.  The  angle  pinnacles 
still  remain  and  I  think  they  prove  that  the  transition 
from  the  tower  to  the  spire  must  always  have 
been  very  abrupt.  I  think  from  the  character  of  all 
the  detail  and  especially  from  the  great  love  shown 
for  the  round  trefoil,  that  this  church  must  have  been 
designed  by  the  same  man  who  built  the  eastern 
part  of  the  cathedral  at  Bayeux.  The  mouldings 
are  excessively  similar  and  the  abaci  are  constantly 
used  octangular  in  plan  in  conjunction  with  square 
and  circular. 

An  interesting  road  took  us  from  Norrey  to  Bayeux, 
where  we  arrived  at  3  P.M. 

The  general  view  of  this  cathedral  is  most  magnifi- 
cent, —  owing  to  its  two  completed  and  similar  western 
spires  and  to  the  great  height  of  a  central  tower  of  flam- 
boyant work  capped  with  a  pagan  cupola  which,  though 
of  bad  details  and  inconsistent  with  all  the  rest  of  the 
work,  certainly  aids  much  in  making  the  magnificence  of 
the  whole  so  great.  This  central  steeple  is  on  the  point 
of  being  taken  down,  I  believe,  as  the  piers  below  are 
giving  way;  and  the  church  is  now  filled  with  timber 
[123] 


shores,  etc.    I  do  not  like  the  steeple  but  cannot  help 
regretting  its  loss.  .  .  . 

There  is  a  curious  old  chimney  near  the  west  front  of 
the  cathedral,  rising  out  of  a  modern  house.  Attached 
to  a  seminary  near  the  Hotel  Dieu  is  a  good  simple 
chapel  of  first-pointed  date.  It  is  a  parallelogram  groined 
simply  and  lighted  with  windows  of  two  lights  in  each 
bay.  The  whole  is  wretchedly  whitewashed  everywhere 
and  contrasts  strongly  with  the  magnificent  colour  of  the 
stonework  throughout  the  interior  of  the  cathedral. 

June  27. 

We  left  Bayeux  at  11  a.m.  in  the  diligence  for  S.  L6 
—  I  in  the  coupe,  my  unfortunate  wife  in  the  dusty 
roiunde.  The  country  was  very  pretty  indeed,  quite 
like  good  parts  of  England,  and  very  grateful  to  my  eyes. 
The  church  of  S.  Loup,  passed  just  after  leaving  Bay- 
eux, has  a  good  Romanesque  steeple  capped  with  a  low 
square  spire  and  remarkable  for  the  great  richness  of  its 
belfry  stage  and  the  eccentric  narrowness  of  the  win- 
dows with  buttresses  between  them.  Two  miles  before 
entering  the  town  the  cathedral  of  S.  L6  comes  in  sight; 
and  by  the  graceful  proportions  of  its  two  western 
spires  gives  promise  of  pleasure  to  the  ecclesiologist.  .  .  . 

June  29. 

We  left  Coutances  this  morning  at  7.30  for  Hambye 
'  en  route  for  Avranche.  The  road  was  all  the  way  exces- 
sively pretty,  and  gave  an  admirable  view  of  Coutances, 
with  the  cluster  of  towers  and  spires  which  crowns  the 
hill  on  which  it  stands.  ...  I  walked  off  alone  to  the 
abbey.  The  situation  is  pretty;  under  a  steep  woody 
and  rocky  hill,  with  a  clear  stream  near,  and  woods 
and  riant  hills  and  dales  all  around.  The  entrance  is 
[124] 


by  a  very  simple  gateway,  double  in  front  and  single- 
arched  behind.  ...  A  few  paces  from  this  gateway 
stands  the  church,  of  whose  west  front  no  traces  now 
remain,  and  some  old  and  rustic  buildings  to  the  south 
of  it,  which  have  only  one  old  doorway  remaining. 

The  church  is  remarkable  in  its  plan,  having  a  nave  with- 
out aisles,  a  central  tower,  transepts  with  eastern  chapels, 
aisles  and  chapels  round  the  choir.  The  end  of  the  north 
transept  is  divided  off  by  two  arches  from  the  church, 
and  was  I  think  intended  for  a  sacristy,  corresponding 
somewhat  in  position  to  the  beautiful  sacristy  at  Cou- 
tances  —  of  which  cathedral  this  abbey  church  bears 
most  marked  evidence  of  being  in  great  degree  a  reduced 
and  simplified  copy.  Two  small  chapels  are  placed  at 
the  re-entering  angles  of  the  nave  and  transept,  and,  sup- 
posing the  choir  to  have  extended  to  the  western  side 
of  the  tower,  these  would  have  been  most  useful  in 
allowing  access  to  the  choir  aisles  and  transepts  without 
passing  through  the  choir  itself.  The  same  point  of 
arrangement  occurs  at  Rayham  abbey  —  also  an  aisle- 
less  church  —  and  would  be  necessary  in  all  conventual 
churches  of  this  type.  The  effect  of  the  interior  is  strik- 
ing, owing  to  the  excessive  lightness  of  the  nave  and 
to  the  great  extension  given  by  its  aisles  to  the  width  of 
the  choir.  The  design  of  the  choir  is  much  like  that  of 
Coutances  —  the  same  lofty  proportions  of  columns,  the 
same  caps,  the  same  kind  of  clerestory  window,  and  the 
same  double  lean-to  roof  all  round  the  choir,  one  side 
over  the  aisle  and  the  other  over  the  chapels  of  the 
apse.  The  whole  work  looks  early,  though  there  are 
here  and  there  suspicious-looking  mouldings  and  Murray 
says  that  the  whole  church  is  of  late  date.  If  he  is 
[125] 


correct,  it  can  only  be,  I  think,  on  the  assumption  that 
the  builders  of  the  present  church  used  very  nearly 
stone  for  stone  a  large  portion  of  the  original  first- 
pointed  edifice.  The  cloisters  occupied  the  angle  be- 
tween the  nave  and  south  transept,  but  no  trace  remains 
of  them  save  the  corbels  which  supported  their  roof.  A 
long  range  of  old  buildings  still  remains,  south  of  the 
south  transept.  On  the  ground  floor  they  consist  of: 
first,  a  small  groined  room  with  a  central  column,  and 
its  groining  and  walls  painted  rudely  with  patterns  in 
distemper;  second,  of  a  long  building  divided  by  a  row 
of  columns  down  the  centre  and  entered  by  three  open 
arches  at  the  west  end,  which  we  may  assume  to  have 
been  the  chapter  room;  third,  another  square  room  with 
a  rude  central  column,  also  painted,  and  then  another 
room  of  that  same  kind;  all  these  rooms  are  groined,  and 
above  them,  along  the  whole  length  of  the  building, 
extends  a  great  hall  with  an  old  timber  roof,  of  such 
great  size  that  it  is  difficult  to  surmise  its  probable  use 
unless  it  was  that  of  a  great  dormitory  arranged  with 
cubicles  down  its  sides.^ 

*  The  plan  of  six-foot  cubicles,  open  above,  with  separate  win- 
dows but  a  single  lofty  roof,  carried  on  immense  stone  arches  span- 
ning the  vast  hall,  is  that  of  the  great  dormitory  at  the  Cistercian 
abbey  of  Poblet,  in  Cataluna.  —  G.  G.  K. 


[126] 


THE  AMBULATORY,   CATHEDRAL  OF  TOURS 


ARCHITECTURAL  NOTES  IN  FRANCE 

(From  the  Ecclesiologist,  1858-59) 

I 

A  SHORT  holiday  among  French  churches  has  left 
so  many  pleasant  recollections  of  new  ideas  re- 
ceived, new  thoughts  suggested,  ancient  mem- 
ories revived  afresh,  that  it  is  as  impossible  as  it  would 
be  churlish  to  refuse  to  communicate  some  notes  of  what 
I  have  seen ;  and  as  they  are  asked  for  I  proceed  to  give 
them,  though  they  must  be  more  slight  and  generalizing 
than  I  could  wish;  for  I  have  a  very  profound  convic- 
tion of  the  great  grandeur  of  ancient  French  art,  and  a 
corresponding  sense  of  the  danger  of  so  treating  it  as  to 
convey  too  small  a  sense  of  its  value  to  those  who  have 
not  studied  it  for  themselves,  or  of  offending  those  who 
are  so  happy  as  to  have  realized  that  value  to  the  fullest 
extent  and  from  actual  inspection  of  its  remains.  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  as  the  France  of  the  "present  day  is 
an  agglomeration  of  ancient  and  distinct  provinces,  so 
also  in  its  ancient  buildings  we  can  trace,  without  any 
difficulty,  a  variety  of  different  national  or  provincial 
styles:  it  would  be  strange  indeed  were  it  not  so.  Even 
in  England  we  have  most  striking  varieties  in  style  con- 
fined, generally,  within  the  boundaries  of  particular 
dioceses;  so  that  to  understand  ancient  art  aright,  it  is 
necessary  to  have  an  exact  acquaintance  with  the  third- 
[127] 


pointed  work  of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall  as  well  as 
that  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  and  to  be  able  to  perceive 
all  the  difference  between  the  first-pointed  work  of  the 
Yorkshire  abbeys  and  that  of  Wells  and  Salisbury. 

And  if  we  have  such  marked  differences  in  a  country 
like  this,  we  may  well  expect  a  much  greater  variety  in 
a  country  which,  like  France  in  the  Middle  Ages,  was 
not  as  now  one  great  nation  but  divided  into  sections 
antagonistic  to  each  other  and  exercising  little  if  any 
reciprocal  influence.  It  is  easy,  therefore,  to  map  our 
France  into  certain  divisions,  each  containing  within 
its  boundaries  a  special  individual  style  of  Gothic  archi- 
tecture, distinguished  by  notable  peculiarities,  and  each 
affording  a  separate  field  for  very  careful  study.  Thus 
we  have  in  the  north  of  France  distinct  French  styles,  in, 
first,  Normandy,  and  secondly,  the  old  lie  de  France  and 
the  surrounding  country,  and  thirdly,  in  the  country  bor- 
dering on  Germany,  a  style  which  is  rather  German  than 
French  in  all  its  leading  features.  Then  going  south- 
ward, we  have,  fourthly,  a  distinct  Burgundian  style, 
and  another,  marked  by  extreme  peculiarities,  in  Poitou 
and  Anjou,  and  (judging  only  by  drawings,  for  I  have 
never  myself  visited  the  extreme  south  of  France), 
again  other  styles,  whose  centres  are  respectively  at 
Clermont  and  at  Aries.  Of  these  various  styles  that  of 
Normandy  presents  a  very  great  affinity  to  our  own.  It 
is  there,  and  almost  only  there,  that  we  see  the  circular 
abacus,  there  only  that  we  see  much  attempted  in  the 
way  of  deep  and  complicated  architectural  mouldings, 
whilst  the  general  effect  of  many  —  especially  among 
the  larger  churches  —  is  extremely  English.  The  like- 
ness is  one  of  which  we  may  well  be  proud,  for  the  archi- 
[128] 


tecture  of  this  province  is  full  of  beauty  and  interest 
to  a  degree  second  only  to  that  of  the  district  of  the  old 
lie  de  France.  Its  very  deficiencies,  too,  are  English  in 
their  character,  for  in  going  from  Paris  into  the  heart 
of  Normandy,  the  one  thing  which  we  notice  more  per- 
haps than  anything  else,  is  the  general  absence  of  the 
figure  sculpture  to  which  we  have  become  accustomed; 
and  this  is  the  case  also  in  England,  where  we  have  really 
hardly  any  at  all  extensive  remains  of  sculpture,  and  cer- 
tainly none  which  can  be  named  with  those  whose  pride 
it  is  to  be  the  guardians  of  such  churches  as  the  cathe- 
drals of  Chartres,  Paris,  Amiens,  Laon,  or  Rheims.^ 
The  study  of  the  architecture  of  Normandy  is  therefore 
the  proper  and  natural  sequel  of  a  complete  and  careful 
study  of  English  architecture,  and  may  be  entered  on 
with  the  less  hesitation  as  I  believe  I  may  safely  venture 
to  say,  that  what  is  learned  there  will  be  in  no  sense 
foreign  either  to  the  precedents  or  the  sympathies  of 
England. 

The  churches  of  Anjou,  Poitou,  and  Touraine,  appear 
to  me  to  be  of  much  less  value  for  architectural  study: 
though  from  the  connection  which  was  maintained  be- 

1  Our  ancient  sculpture  is  therefore  of  inexpressible  value  to  us; 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  we  shall  hear  less  and  less  of  that  destruc- 
tive and  dangerous  process  called  "  restoration  "  in  connection  with 
it.  The  Guardian  lately  contained  a  paragraph  stating  that  a  London 
carver  is  employed  on  the  restoration  of  the  ancient  figure-sculpture 
at  Lincoln.  I  shudder  to  think  of  the  havoc  which  (if  I  may  judge 
of  him  by  the  former  performances  of  his  class)  he  must  be  making. 
If  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Lincoln  possessed  a  picture  by  an  old 
master,  would  they  employ  a  painter  to  touch  up  the  noses  and  put 
in  new  heads  where  the  old  painting  was  defective?  Assuredly  not. 
And  can  they  not  feel  that  any  sculpture  is  just  as  much  a  work  of 
art,  owing  all  its  interest  to  the  genius  of  the  artist,  as  any  painting 
can  be,  and  as  far  beyond  restoration  therefore? 

[129] 


tween  our  own  country  and  those  parts  of  France  during 
a  long  period  of  the  Middle  Ages,  it  is  impossible  but 
they  should  present  much  that  is  of  the  greatest 
interest  to  the  English  student.  I  have  looked,  how- 
ever, in  vain  for  evidence,  either  in  the  general  design 
or  in  the  details  of  their  architecture,  of  any  influence 
exercised  by  the  English  upon  their  art.  In  fact,  when 
we  held  the  country,  we  held  it  as  conquerors  not  as 
colonists,  and  we  left  no  mark  of  ourselves,  but  let  the 
people  go  on  building  for  us  and  for  themselves  in  their 
own  way.  And  their  way  was  full  of  peculiarity,  perhaps 
more  so  than  that  of  any  other  part  of  France.  They 
had  their  own  system  of  planning,  their  own  system  of 
groining:  and  this,  it  should  be  remarked,  is  sure,  if 
it  has  any  peculiarity,  to  exercise  a  most  powerful  and 
obvious  effect  upon  the  whole  architecture.  There  is, 
however,  a  heaviness,  a  repetition  of  the  same  idea,  and 
an  absence  of  delicate  skill,  as  well  as  of  bold  architec- 
tural inspiration,  which  to  my  mind  marks  all  the  build- 
ings in  these  parts  inferior,  not  only  to  the  best  French 
work,  but  also  to  that  of  Normandy  and  of  England.  And 
now  I  go  on  naturally  to  say  that  I  believe  the  best  work 
in  France  is  that  which  I  described  shortly  as  that  of 
the  old  tie  de  France  and  the  surrounding  country;  it 
is  that  which  I  have  studied  the  most  carefully,  and  love 
the  most  of  any  architecture  that  I  know;  it  is  one  which 
presents  no  features  unsuitable  for  our  country,  or  in- 
consistent with  the  demands  of  our  climate;  it  is  one 
from  the  study  of  which  I  believe  we  should  all  derive 
an  immense  benefit,  for  it  were  wellnigh  impossible  to 
spend  much  time  among  the  works  of  art  which  it  so 
bountifully  affords  without  being  strongly  impressed 
[130] 


with  the  stern  grandeur  and  masculine  character  of  the 
men  who  conceived  it,  and  without  being  elevated  in 
our  whole  tone  of  mind  so  far  as  we  have  been  impressed. 
A  district  which  affords  examples  such  as  Rouen  cathe- 
dral, S.  Quentin,  Amiens,  Noyon,  Laon,  Soissons,  Meaux, 
Rheims,  Troyes,  Chartres,  Notre  Dame  of  Paris,  Mantes, 
S,  Leu,  S.  Germer,  Senlis,  Beauvais,  and  others,  must 
be  conceded  to  be,  if  not  the  best,  certainly  the  richest 
field  for  the  study  of  our  art  in  all  Europe;  and  it  is 
mainly  to  this  district  that  I  will  take  you,  with  this  ex- 
pression of  my  extreme  veneration  for  the  art  enshrined 
in  its  architectural  remains.^  .  .  . 

At  Beuzeville,  where  the  Fecamp  branch  joins  the 
main  line  of  railway  to  Rouen,  it  is  worth  while  to  walk 
a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  church,  not  because  it  is  a  fine 
building,  but  rather  because  it  illustrates  well  enough 
the  differences  between  French  and  English  ideas  about 
village  churches.  The  unbroken  nave,  thirty-three  feet 
wide  and  sixty-nine  feet  in  length,  with  its  arched  boarded 
roof,  —  the  central  groined  tower  with  a  spire  springing 
some  four  or  five  feet  below  the  ridge  of  the  nave  roof,  — 
and  the  hipped  vestry  roof,  are  all  unlike  English  work, 
yet  the  whole  effect  is  particularly  good  notwithstanding 
the  poverty  of  style,  which  is  late  flamboyant.  There 
are  four  rows  of  fixed  seats  all  down  the  nave  —  modern, 
of  course. 

»  I  am,  of  course,  aware  that  some  of  these  churches  are  not  locally 
situated  within  the  lie  de  France,  and  one  of  them —  Rouen  Cathe- 
dral—  might  have  been  expected  to  be  purely  Norman  in  its  char- 
acter. To  my  mind,  however,  it  represents  a  fusion  between  the 
Norman  and  the  real  French  style,  affected,  moreover,  ^t  first  to 
some  extent  by  Italian  influences.  And  Rouen,  as  well  as  most  of 
these  churches,  was  comprised  within  the  Domaine  Royale  before 
the  death  of  Philip  Augustus. 

[131] 


From  Beuzeville  to  Rouen  the  railway  took  me  over 
ground  well  known  to  the  majority  of  English  travel- 
lers, and  I  would  not  say  a  word  about  Rouen,  were  it 
not  that  the  strong  popular  delusion  which  has  elevated 
the  church  of  S.  Ouen  into  its  great  attraction  deserves 
to  be  protested  against  always.  And,  this,  not  because 
the  church  is  not  very  fine  and  very  pretty — it  is  both 
—  but  because  S.  Ouen-worship  leads  people  to  miss 
altogether,  or  only  to  half  see  and  understand  the  ex- 
treme value  and  beauty  of  the  cathedral.  I  have  seen 
this  often,  and  I  find  that,  unlike  some  other  churches, 
each  time  I  see  it  I  discern  new  beauties  and  new  value 
in  its  art;  and  it  lies  so  near  to  us,  and  teaches  us  so 
much  not  to  be  learnt  in  England,  and  yet  of  the  utmost 
value  to  all  of  us,  that  I  do  not  know  how  to  express 
myself  sufficiently  strongly  as  to  the  advantage  of  a 
careful  study  of  it  to  all  workers  in  the  revival.  Indeed 
I  think  that  the  Architectural  Museum  could  perhaps 
do  more  for  art  by  helping  young  carvers  to  go  for  a 
time  to  Rouen  for  study,  than  by  adding  to  their  collec- 
tion a  multitude  of  casts  which  are  often  of  necessity 
of  doubtful  excellence.  The  thing  may  be  difficult  to 
accomplish,  but  it  ought  to  be  done,  for  this  one  cathe- 
dral contains  such  an  abundance  and  variety  of  sculpture 
as  would  almost  put  to  the  blush  all  our  churches  com- 
bined. The  western  doors  of  the  north  and  south  aisles 
are,  to  my  taste,  the  most  exquisite  portions  of  the 
church.  Their  style  is  so  early,  and  so  immediate  a 
deduction  from  Byzantine  or  Romanesque  work  that  I 
can  fancy  a  man,  who  had  been  taught  to  believe  in  the 
absolute  perfection  of  our  English  fourteenth-century 
style,  would  be  long  before  he  appreciated  to  the  full 
[132] 


their  perfection.  They  are  moreover  of  a  kind  of  work 
which  is  as  rare  as  it  is  excellent.  In  England  we  have 
nothing,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  of  similar  style.  I 
remember  that  Mr.  Scott  once  suggested  to  me  the  prob- 
ability that  they  were  executed  by  the  same  man  who 
executed  the  doorways  in  the  west  front  of  Genoa  cathe- 
dral, and  the  suggestion  evidenced  fully  his  sense  of  the 
extreme  rarity  of  the  work.  I  believe,  however,  that 
they  are  examples  of  a  style  which  was  not  that  of  an 
individual  only.  That  it  owed  much  to  Italy  I  have 
little  doubt:  for  even  if  there  had  been  no  trace  of  an 
Italian  influence  in  the  extreme  delicacy  of  the  whole 
of  the  sculpture,  in  the  twining  foliage  of  the  door 
jambs,  and  the  very  singular  and  graceful  foliage  of  the 
archivolts,  yet  it  might,  I  think,  have  been  detected 
indirectly.  For  in  this  same  church,  in  the  aisle  round 
the  apse,  there  still  remains  a  monument  of  an  Arch- 
bishop Maurice,  the  Italianizing  character  of  which  is 
most  marked,  and  at  the  same  time  its  details  show  that 
it  is  a  work  of  precisely  the  same  school  as  the  western 
aisle-doorways.  None  who  have  been  in  Italy  can  for- 
get the  almost  invariable  type  of  the  finer  early  monu- 
ments—  a  simple  arch,  surmounted  immediately  by  a 
gable  of  very  flat  pitch,  and  supported  on  detached 
shafts.  They  will  remember  them  at  Verona  often,  in 
Venice,  in  Genoa,  in  Perugia,  and  indeed  in  all  directions 
and  of  all  dates;  well,  in  this  monument,  we  have  the 
same  thing,  a  round  arch  exquisitely  adorned  with 
angels  (whereof  two  in  the  centre  bear  up  the  soul  of 
the  archbishop)  and  immediately  above  the  arch  a 
very  flat  pediment  or  gable.  Perhaps,  too,  it  is  an  Italian 
influence,  which  is  evidenced  in  another  respect  in  the 
[133] 


decorations  of  the  western  doors.  The  alternate  orders 
of  the  arch  are  simply  chamfered,  presenting  in  section 
three  sides  of  an  octagon,  and  these  are  covered  with 
regular  sunk  patterns  of  the  simplest  kind,  but  marvel- 
lously effective.  Go  from  Rouen  to  Genoa  and  you  find 
the  western  doorways  executed  in  marble,  every  plain 
surface  in  which  is  inlaid  with  geometrical  patterns,  — 
light  patterns  on  dark  ground,  and  dark  on  light.  The 
effect  is  very  similar  in  the  two  places:  at  Genoa  the 
very  best  materials  were  to  be  had:  and  at  Rouen  where 
nothing  but  common  stone  was  used,  the  artist  struck 
out  a  system  which  produced  an  effect  all  but  equal  to 
that  obtained  at  Genoa.  And  yet  with  all  this  similar- 
ity I  am  not  disposed  to  class  these  two  buildings  to- 
gether as  the  work  of  one  man.  The  architect  of  Genoa 
loved  mouldings  much  more  than  did  the  architect  of 
these  doorways;  and  I  think  1  have  met  with  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  traces  of  similar  work  to  convince  me 
that  it  was  the  style  of  a  class,  not  of  a  man,  and  one  of 
those  many  and  glorious  phases  through  which  our  art 
in  her  rapid  progress  passed.  The  western  doors  at 
Mantes  are  very  similar  in  their  detail;  those  of 
Chartres  —  what  a  study  they  are!  —  partake  largely  of 
the  same  spirit;  in  the  western  fagade  of  Notre  Dame, 
Paris,  there  are  traces  of  it;  in  Notre  Dame,  Chalons-sur- 
Marne,  the  south  doorway  was  identical  in  character, 
and  fragments  of  work  of  the  same  style  have  been  dis- 
covered in  the  course  of  lowering  the  floor  of  that  church 
to  its  ancient  level;  and  in  S.  Germer,  in  the  chapter- 
house of  S.  Georges  de  Boscherville,  in  the  western  door- 
way of  Angers  cathedral,  and  in  parts  of  S.  Remi  at 
Rheims,  I  think  we  see  the  same  style  more  or  less  de- 
[  134  ] 


veloped.  Undoubtedly  the  work  at  Rouen  is  the  most 
excellent  of  all,  just  as  it  occupies  the  central  position 
in  point  of  date. 

I  am  not  afraid  to  confess  that  the  whole  of  these 
examples  are  largely  Byzantine  in  their  character;  in 
my  eyes  this  is  a  virtue,  not  a  fault;  for  I  believe  that 
it  is  here  perhaps  more  than  anywhere  else  that  we 
may  succeed  in  developing  from  our  forefathers'  work. 
There  seems  to  be  here  a  mine  of  untold  wealth,  the 
workings  into  which  were  no  sooner  commenced  than 
they  were  abandoned:  and  the  style  seems  to  be 
one  which  affords  special  opportunity  for  meeting 
our  great  difficulty  at  the  present  day,  as  it  indi- 
cates a  mode  of  obtaining  rich  decorations  without 
being  dependent  for  effect  entirely  on  a  horde  of 
slovenly  carvers,  who,  without  an  idea  in  their  heads, 
ruin  all  the  rest  of  our  work  by  their  failure  in  its 
sculpture. 

This  is  a  digression,  but  the  subject  was  tempting: 
I  will  only  say  further,  as  to  these  remains  at  Rouen, 
that  they  have  the  rare  advantage  of  not  having  been 
restored,  and  that  they  are  entirely  covered  in  all  parts 
with  work  of  almost  uniform  excellence,  though,  to  my 
taste,  the  north-west  door  (the  tympanum  of  which 
contains  the  life  of  S.  John  the  Baptist)  is  the  finest. 
The  effigy  of  Archbishop  Maurice  is  singularly  elab- 
orated: the  patterns  on  the  vestments,  the  details  of 
the  censers,  and  indeed  all  parts,  being  finished  with 
the  elaboration  of  a  genuine  Pre-Raphaelite.  Before 
modern  sculptors  sneer  at  these  twelfth  century  works, 
I  wish  that  they  would  themselves  attempt  to  produce 
even  one  block  of  stone,  a  foot  square,  as  well  wrought, 
C  135  ] 


and  I  doubt  not  they  would  profit  by  the  lesson,  novel 
though  it  might  be. 

The  western  doors  of  the  aisles  are  placed  between 
large  buttresses,  and  arches  are  thrown  over  them  from 
buttress  to  buttress.  Between  the  arches  of  the  doors 
and  these  upper  arches,  a  small  space  of  plain  wall 
remained,  which  has  been  treated  in  the  most  ingen- 
ious manner.  Figures  are  marked  in  outline  on  the 
stone,  which  were,  I  think,  painted,  and  the  ground 
throughout  is  diapered  with  a  very  simple  pattern  sunk 
in  the  stone.  Over  the  south-west  doorway  was  the 
Last  Judgement:  and  over  the  north-west,  our  Lord 
seated  with  angels  and  saints  on  either  side.  In  the 
former  our  Lord  is  seated  on  a  throne,  between  two 
candles:  angels  present  souls  to  Him,  other  angels 
bear  a  soul  in  a  sheet,  and  others  again  on  the  right 
drive  the  wicked  into  hell. 

I  must  say  little  more  about  Rouen ;  but  I  ought  not 
to  forget  to  notice  the  fine  and  very  varied  treatment 
of  the  capitals  throughout  the  nave,  and  the  thoroughly 
Norman  (and  English)  effect  of  the  immense  numbers 
of  clustered  shafts,  of  which  all  the  piers  are  composed. 
The  double  division  in  height  of  the  main  arcade  is 
not  easily  accounted  for;  but  if  it  was  owing  to  an 
alteration  in  the  height  of  the  building,  while  it  was 
in  progress,  it  is  a  happy  instance  to  be  added  to  many 
others,  of  the  skill  with  which  mediaeval  architects 
seized  upon  difficulties  as  the  best  opportunities  for 
achieving  successes. 

The  ground-plan  of  this  cathedral  is,  I  think,  alto- 
gether one  of  the  best  in  France.  In  particular  the  chevet 
is  of  great  beauty.  The  aisle  round  the  apse,  instead 
[136] 


of  being  completely  surrounded  by  chapels,  has  its  alter- 
nate bays  only  so  occupied,  with  great  advantage  in 
point  of  effect,  both  internally  and  externally.  The 
arrangement  is  almost  identical  with  that  of  the  fine 
chevet  of  S.  Omer  cathedral,  and  appears  to  me  to  be 
a  happy  mean  between  the  one  chapel  at  the  east  end 
of  Sens,  and  the  cluster  of  chapels  which  crowd  the 
apsidal  ends  of  almost  all  the  great  churches  in  the 
north  of  France.  Whilst  in  its  plan  it  is  more  skil- 
fully disposed  than  the  somewhat  similar  chevet  of 
Chartres,  it  is  preferable  to  those  of  Mantes  and  Notre 
Dame,  Paris,  where  there  were  no  projecting  apsidal 
chapels,^  or  Bourges,  where  they  are  so  small  as  to 
produce  no  effect. 

The  north-west  tower  (that  of  S.  Romain),  should 
be  ascended,  if  only  to  examine  the  framework  of  the 
roof  and  for  the  bells,  and  to  note,  among  other  things, 
the  open  wooden  staircase  in  its  upper  stage.  The  view, 
too,  of  the  city  is  finely  seen;  and  I  know  few  cities 
that  reward  more  bountifully  any  trouble  taken  in  the 
attempt  to  see  them  in  this  way.  A  city  it  is,  indeed, 
of  desecrated  churches,  but  still  a  city  whose  situation 
on  the  noble  river  winding  here  under  great  chalk  hills, 
and  there  along  the  edge  of  meadows  green,  flat  and 
extensive,  fringed  with  long  perspective  lines  of  poplars, 
is  as  beautiful  and  as  happy  as  it  can  well  be. 

It  is  not  a  long  walk  from  Rouen  to  S.  Georges  de 

Boscherville,  and  the  view  from  the  hill  at  Chanteleu 

is  one  of  the  best  near  Rouen.    The  church  is  but  of 

1  The  plan  of  an  aisle  or  "  procession-path  "  without  chapels  is,  in 
execution,  the  only  form  of  apse,  the  effect  of  which  is  decidedly  in- 
ferior to  our  English  square  ends.  It  is  on  the  exterior  that  its 
deformity  is  most  conspicuous. 

[137] 


slight  interest,  though  its  flamboyant  tower,  with  a 
grand  open  western  arch,  forms  a  fine  sort  of  porch, 
and  indicates  a  variety  which  might  sometimes  be  intro- 
duced among  ourselves  with  advantage.  S.  Georges  de 
Boscherville  is  too  well  known  to  require  description 
but  if  others  have  formed  the  same  conception  of  it  that 
I  had,  they  will  thank  me  for  saying  that  the  chapter- 
house is  an  exquisite  example  of  the  earliest  pointed 
work,  full  of  delicate  and  beautiful  detail.  The  three 
western  arches  are  circular,  but  not  Romanesque  in 
their  character;  some  of  their  capitals  have  foliage, 
some  sculpture  of  figures,  and  the  thickness  of  the  wall 
is  supported  by  a  miniature  sexpartite  vault.  The 
vaulting  of  the  chapter-house  is  also  sexpartite,  with 
additional  cells  at  the  east  and  west  end  to  accommo- 
date similar  triplets.  As  I  have  before  said,  there  is 
much  in  the  detail  of  parts  of  this  building,  which  indi- 
cates the  same  school  as  the  early-pointed  work  at 
Rouen.  The  chapter-house  is  a  parallelogram,  fifty- 
four  feet  in  length  by  twenty-four  feet  nine  inches 
in  width,  and  groined  in  three  bays.  Some  of  the 
western  entrance  shafts  are  elaborately  carved.  The 
vault  inside  is  coloured  buff,  and  diapered  with  red 
lines  in  a  small  regular  pattern  all  over. 

Between  Rouen  and  Mantes,  a  pause  of  a  few  hours 
at  Pont  de  I'Arche  enabled  me  to  see  the  interesting 
remains  of  the  abbey  of  Bonport.  The  refectory  is 
nearly  perfect,  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of  simple  quad- 
ripartite vaulting  remaining  throughout  the  modern- 
looking  farm-house.  But  of  the  church,  the  bases  of 
one  or  two  columns,  and  one  respond  alone  remain, 
and  these  of  an  excellence  of  design  which  make  it  very 
[138] 


much  to  be  regretted  that  it  should  have  been  destroyed. 
The  groined  refectory,  of  five  bays  in  length,  is  well 
worthy  of  a  visit.  The  side  windows  are  of  two  lancet 
lights,  with  a  circle  above,  and  at  the  north  end  is  a 
window  of  four  equal  lancets,  with  small  cusped  open- 
ings above.  The  south  end  and  entrance  from  the  clois- 
ter are  modernized.  The  pulpit  staircase  is  perfect,  and 
very  ingeniously  contrived;  but  the  pulpit  itself  is  des- 
troyed. Among  the  buildings,  which  are  of  consider- 
able extent,  are  some  admirable  examples  of  domestic 
windows;  and,  to  conclude,  the  whole  is  of  the  very 
best  early  thirteenth-century  style. 

The  church  at  Pont  de  I'Arche  is  one  of  those  ambi- 
tious but  very  picturesque  buildings,  of  which  we  have 
no  counterpart.  It  is  flamboyant  in  style,  very  lofty, 
and  intended  for  groining  throughout.  This,  however, 
was  never  completed,  and  there  is  a  coved  wooden 
ceiling  in  its  place.  A  good  deal  of  late  stained  glass, 
of  very  poor  detail,  exists  in  the  windows,  the  subject 
of  one  of  them  being  the  Tree  of  Jesse. 

Of  the  ancient  bridge  over  the  Seine,  at  Pont  de 
I'Arche,  not  a  vestige,  I  think,  now  remains. 

The  cathedral  at  Mantes  is  in  many  ways  of  much 
interest.  Your  readers  are,  no  doubt,  well  acquainted 
with  Notre  Dame,  Paris,  and  with  the  singular  changes 
which  have  been  effected  in  it  from  time  to  time.  In 
Mantes,  I  believe  they  may  see  almost  the  same  kind 
of  conception,  left  with  such  slight  alterations  as  do 
not  in  any  way  conceal  the  original  design.  It  is  there- 
fore of  special  value. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  western  doors.  They 
are  much  mutilated,  and  the  south-west  door  was  re- 
[139] 


placad  in  the  fourteenth  century  by  an  immense  and 
conceited  composition  of  a  doorway  with  pediment  and 
flanking  pinnacles  which  is  very  damaging  to  the  gen- 
eral effect  of  the  fagade.  The  remainder  of  the  front  is 
uniform  first-pointed,  with  two  steeples  connected  by 
an  open  screen  as  at  Paris.  The  north-west  tower  has 
been  already  nearly  rebuilt,  and  the  south-west  tower 
is  now  suffering  from  the  same  process,  "suffering"  I 
say,  because  I  believe  firmly  that  the  original  design  is 
being  annihilated.  In  both  the  belfry  stage,  which  rises 
above  the  screen  between  the  towers,  is  now  much 
smaller  than  the  stage  below;  nothing  can  look  much 
worse  than  such  a  sudden  diminution  in  size,  and  I  am 
convinced  that  the  original  intention  must  have  been 
(as  at  Laon)  to  continue  the  shafts  and  arcading  which 
surround  the  lower  stage  up  to  the  top.  I  made  as 
careful  an  examination  of  the  work  as  was  possible,  and 
have  hardly  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  this  was  the  case; 
but  whether  the  authorities  did  not  know  the  glorious 
steeples  of  Laon,  or  whether  they  have  a  view  of  their 
own  as  to  what  looks  best,  they  are  certainly  making 
the  upper  part  of  this  unfortunate  west  front  look  as 
modern  in  its  outline  and  meagre  in  its  character  as  it 
is  new  and  fresh-looking  in  its  colour.  It  were  better 
that  old  work  perished  altogether,  than  that  it  should 
be  scraped,  re-chiselled,  cleaned  and  modernized  in 
this  heartless  manner! 

The  most  noticeable  feature  of  the  interior  is  the 
treatment  of  the  triforium  of  the  eastern  portion  of  the 
church.  This  is  groined  with  a  succession  of  transverse 
barrel  vaults,  the  effect  of  which  is  to  give  an  immense 
addition  of  strength  to  the  main  walls.  They  spring 
from  the  capitals  of  a  succession  of  detached  shafts 
[  140  ] 


which  are  placed  across  the  triforium,  so  that  the  per- 
spective of  its  interior  is  singularly  picturesque.  It 
was  not  very  long  after  the  erection  of  the  church  that 
the  western  portion  of  the  triforium  was  altered,  a 
quadripartite  vault  being  substituted  for  the  barrel 
vaulting,  and  wherever  this  has  been  done,  the  thrust 
has  been  too  great  for  the  principal  groining  shafts, 
which  have  bulged  considerably,  and  are  now  held  in 
place  by  iron  ties.  In  the  apse,  the  bays  being  of  neces- 
sity much  wider  on  one  side  than  on  the  other,  the  ridge 
of  the  barrel  vault  rises  rapidly  towards  the  external 
wall:  and  the  triforium  is  lighted  by  a  succession  of 
immense  simple  circular  windows.  The  internal  ele- 
vation of  one  bay  of  this  cathedral  is  nearly  identical 
with  the  original  design  of  that  of  Paris,  though  simple 
and  (I  fancy)  rather  earlier  in  date;  but  from  the  short- 
ness of  the  church  and  the  absence  of  transepts  (in 
which  one  point  it  reminds  me  of  the  fine  church  of  S. 
Leu  d'Esserent)  it  has  both  inside  and  outside  the  effect 
rather  of  a  choir  only  than  of  a  complete  cathedral. 
There  are  various  additions  to  the  church  of  later  date, 
which  add  much  to  its  picturesque  character,  especially 
a  chapel  on  the  south  side,  the  chapels  round  the  apse, 
and  the  sacristies  on  the  north  side.  The  stone  roof 
above  the  groining  of  one  of  these  is  remarkable.  The 
arrangement  of  coloured  tiles  on  the  roof  is  one  of  the 
best  I  have  seen.  The  pattern  is  rather  complicated, 
and  is  formed  with  dark  tiles  (green  and  black  used 
indiscriminately)  on  a  ground  of  yellowish  tiles. 

The  church  from  the  apse  to  the  western  towers  con- 
sists of  but  three  bays  of  sexpartite  vaulting,  each  bay 
covering  two  bays  of  the  main  arcades.    Between  the 
towers  is  one  bay  of  quadripartite  vaulting. 
[141] 


Walking  from  Mantes  across  the  river  to  the  suburb 
of  Limay,  a  fine  view  is  obtained  of  the  town  and 
cathedral,  which  shows  here  the  whole  picturesque  ex- 
aggeration of  height  as  compared  with  length  which 
distinguishes  it.  Limay  church  boasts  of  nothing  save 
a  tower  and  spire  on  the  south  side,  of  late  Romanesque 
character  throughout.  The  surface  of  the  spire  is  cov- 
ered with  scalloping,  and  has  spire-lights  and  fine  pin- 
nacles at  its  base.  Some  attached  shafts  against  the 
face  of  the  belfry  stage,  which  seem  to  serve  no 
purpose,  are  curious  as  being  probably  the  type  from 
which  some  similarly  placed  shafts  in  the  steeples  of  the 
cathedral  were  derived.  Here  too,  as  in  the  cathedral, 
a  most  effective  form  of  label  is  used,  the  section  of 
which  is  a  square  cut  out  into  diamonds  like  unpierced 
dogteeth.  We  see  the  same  thing  in  England,  and 
among  other  examples  there  is  a  good  one  at  Lanercost. 
Its  effect  is  singularly  bold  and  piquant. 

A  mile  on  the  other  side  of  Mantes  is  the  little  village 
of  Gassiecourt,  whose  cross  church  is  of  much  interest. 
The  glass  in  the  three  chancel  windows  is  fine,  and  of 
late  thirteenth-century  date.  The  east  window  of  four 
lights  with  twenty-five  subjects  has  been  restored,  and 
two  of  the  subjects  —  the  thirteenth  and  eighteenth  — 
have  been  quite  wrongly  placed.  The  window  repre- 
sents the  whole  Passion  of  our  Lord,  The  side  windows 
of  two  lights  contain  large  figures  under  canopies  of  the 
early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  in  a  sad  state,  but 
of  very  considerable  value.  The  east  window  of  the 
south  transept  has  subjects  from  the  lives  of  S.  Laurence 
and  another.  The  internal  arrangement  is  remarkable; 
the  fifteenth  century  stalls,  with  subsellae  and  returns, 
being  placed  in  the  two  eastern  bays  of  the  nave,  leav- 
[142] 


ing  three  bays  to  the  west.  The  old  altar  remains  in 
the  east  wall  of  the  north  transept.  The  walls  and  roof 
of  the  south  transept  are  covered  with  painting;  on 
the  roof  are  four  angels  with  the  instruments  of  the 
Passion,  one  in  each  division  of  the  groining;  the  west 
wall  has  a  painting  of  the  Last  Judgement,  and  the  east 
large  figures  on  each  side  of  the  east  window;  on  the 
soffit  of  the  arch  into  the  tower  are  angels  playing  on 
musical  instruments.  The  whole  appears  to  have  been 
painted  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and,  though  of  no 
great  artistic  merit,  is  of  value  in  France,  where,  as  in 
England,  such  things  are  very  rare.  A  grand  Roman- 
esque west  doorway,  and  a  simple  gabled  central  tower 
with  a  good  belfry  stage  are  the  principal  external  fea- 
tures of  this  interesting  village  church. 

Before  I  conclude,  I  must  say  a  few  words  as  to  the 
evidence  of  popular  feeling  in  regard  to  pointed  archi- 
tecture in  France.  It  is  partly,  doubtless,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  all  the  great  churches  are  national  property, 
and  entirely  sustained  by  the  State,  that  we  miss  so 
entirely  any  of  that  evidence  of  personal  and  widely 
spread  interest  in  them,  which  so  honourably  distin- 
guishes most  people  in  our  own  country.  But  descend- 
ing to  the  second  and  inferior  classes  of  churches,  we 
find  unfortunately  the  same  apathy,  the  same  neglect: 
so  that  a  tour  among  French  village  churches  would 
leave  an  impression  on  the  mind  of  any  Englishman 
that  the  clergy  and  laity  are  alike  careless  of  their  fate 
and  ignorant  of  their  value.  One  of  the  very  few  village 
churches  which  I  have  seen  in  process  of  restoration  was 
being  done  by  order  of  the  Emperor,  and  by  a  rate 
imposed  upon  the  commune,  aided  by  an  imperial  grant; 
but  there,  as  elsewhere,  the  repair  was  entirely  confined 
[143] 


to  the  fabric;  and  pews,  pavements,  altars,  —  all  remain 
still  in  their  old  state,  ugly,  dirty,  and  uncared  for.  I 
must  make  honourable  exception  in  favour  of  one  large 
parish  church,  Notre  Dame,  Chalons-sur-Marne,  where, 
with  the  greatest  care  and  love  for  the  building  com- 
mitted to  his  charge,  the  excellent  cure  is  carrying  on  a 
restoration  which  appears  to  me  to  be  by  very  far  the 
best  and  most  faithful  that  I  have  seen  on  the  Conti- 
nent. I  have  seen,  I  grieve  to  say,  but  little  evidence 
of  any  practical  love  on  the  part  of  the  people  or  the 
clergy  for  their  glorious  churches,  but  I  will  let  M. 
VioUet-le-Duc  —  than  whom  who  can  be  a  better  judge? 
—  say  what  can  be  said  as  to  the  real  impression  which 
they  produce:  — 

"Depouilles  aujourd'hui,  mutilees  par  le  temps  et  la 
main  des  hommes,  meconnues  pendant  plusieurs  siecles 
par  les  successeurs  de  ceux  qui  les  avaient  elevees,  nos 
cathedrales  apparaissent  au  milieu  de  nos  villes  popu- 
leuses,  comme  de  grands  cercueils;  cependant  elles  in- 
spirent  toujours  aux  populations  un  sentiment  de  respect 
inalterable;  a  certains  jours  de  solemnites  publiques, 
elles  reprennent  leur  voix,  une  nouvelle  jeunesse,  et 
ceux  memes  qui  repetaient,  la  veille,  sous  leurs  voutes, 
que  ce  sont  la  des  monuments  d'un  autre  age  sans 
signification  aujourd'hui,  sans  raison  d'exister,  les  trou- 
vent  belles  encore  dans  leur  vieillesse  et  leur  pauvret§." 

II 

Leaving  Paris  for  Beauvais,  the  first  station  at  which  I 

stopped  was  I'lsle  Adam,  from  whence  a  walk  of  two  or 

three  miles  by  the  banks  of  the  Oise  brought  me  to  the 

fine  village  church  of  Champagne.    This  is  very  unlike 

[144] 


an  English  village  church  in  its  general  scheme,  but  full 
of  interest.  In  plan  it  consists  of  a  groined  nave  and 
aisles,  of  six  bays,  a  central  tower  with  a  square  chancel 
of  one  bay,  and  transepts  with  apsidal  projections  from 
their  eastern  walls.  The  date  of  the  whole  church  (with 
the  exception  of  the  tower  arches,  which  must  have 
been  either  rebuilt  or  very  much  altered  in  the  fifteenth 
century)  is  about  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century.  It  is 
now  undergoing  repair  at  the  joint  expense  of  the  Em- 
peror and  the  commune,  but  this  is  being  done  in  so 
careless  a  manner  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  it  will  not  pro- 
ceed further  than  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  secur- 
ity of  the  fabric.  The  western  fagade  has  a  very  singular 
doorway,  the  tympanum  of  which  is  pierced  with  a 
window  of  six  cusps,  whilst  the  abacus  of  the  capitals 
is  carried  across  the  tympanum,  and  a  square-headed 
door  pierced  below.  Above  is  a  large  wheel  window  of 
twelve  lights.  The  aisles  are  lighted  with  lancets,  whilst 
the  clerestory  has  a  succession  of  circular  windows, 
which  internally  form  part  of  the  same  composition  as 
the  triforium,  the  lower  part  being  an  unpierced  arcade. 
The  chancel  is  lighted  at  the  east  with  a  circular  window 
enclosed  within  a  pointed  arch  and  on  either  side  with 
early  geometrical  windows  of  two  lights.  The  finest 
feature  is  the  steeple,  which  rises  in  two  stages  above 
the  roofs.  The  belfry  stage  is  excessively  lofty  and  ele- 
gant in  its  proportions,  having  two  windows  of  two 
lights  in  each  face  divided  by  a  cluster  of  shafts,  whilst 
other  clusters  of  shafts  at  the  angles  of  the  tower  run 
up  to  a  rich  corbel-table  and  cornice,  under  the  eaves  of 
the  roof.  The  finish  is  a  hipped  saddle-back  roof  of  steep 
pitch  and  covered  with  slate. 

C  145  ] 


Internally  the  most  rare  feature  is  a  very  light  cusped 
stone  arch  of  flamboyant  character,  with  pierced  span- 
drils,  which  spans  the  western  arch  of  the  tower,  and  no 
doubt  originally  carried  the  Rood.  The  capitals  in  the 
nave  are  boldly  carved,  and  carry  the  groining  shafts, 
which  are  clusters  of  three.  At  the  west  end  of  the 
north  aisle,  and  projecting  beyond  the  fagade  of  the 
church,  is  the  ruin  of  a  small  gabled  chapel,  the  object 
of  which  I  did  not  understand. 

Altogether  this  church,  owing  to  its  fine  character, 
and  the  retention  of  almost  all  its  original  features  and 
proportions  unaltered,  deserves  to  be  known  and  visited 
by  all  ecclesiologists,  who  travel  along  the  north-of- 
France  railway  to  Paris.  A  few  miles  farther  on  the  left 
rises  the  fine  church  of  S.  Leu,  which  I  have  known  for 
a  long  time,  and  which  deserves,  as  I  think,  very  much 
more  notice  and  study  than  it  appears  to  have  received. 
The  plan,  situation,  details,  and  style  (early  first-pointed) 
are  all  alike  of  the  best,  and  I  know  few,  even  among 
French  churches,  which  impress  me  more  strongly  with 
the  thorough  goodness  and  nobility  of  their  style.  The 
east  end  of  the  church  rises  from  the  precipitous  edge  of 
a  rock,  which  elevates  the  whole  building  finely  above 
the  level  of  the  riant  valley  of  the  Oise.  It  was  attached, 
I  believe,  to  a  Benedictine  abbey,  the  other  buildings  of 
which  are  all  in  a  most  advanced  state  of  decay.  The 
church  fortunately,  though  much  out  of  repair,  and  in 
some  points  altered  into  flamboyant,  is  nevertheless 
sufficiently  perfect  for  all  purposes  of  study.  It  consists 
in  plan  of  two  western  towers  (the  north-west  tower 
being  only  in  part  built)  then  six  bays  of  nave  and  aisles, 
three  bays  of  choir,  and  an  apse  (circular  on  plan)  of 
[146] 


seven  bays;  round  the  apse  is  the  procession  path,  and 
four  chapels,  also  circular  on  plan,  lighted  by  two  win- 
dows, so  that  one  of  the  groining  shafts  is  placed  opposite 
the  centre  of  the  arch  into  each,  and  over  the  altars.  In 
place  of  the  fifth  chapel  on  the  north  side,  a  circular 
recess  is  formed  in  the  external  wall  of  the  procession 
path,  so  as  to  make  space  for  an  altar  without  forming 
a  distinct  chapel.  I  should  be  disposed  to  say  that 
this  was  the  original  scheme  of  the  church,  afterwards 
altered  and  much  improved  by  the  substitution  of  larger 
and  distinct  chapels.^  The  central  chapel  of  the  apse 
has  the  unusual  feature  of  another  chapel  above  it,  on  a 
level  with  the  triforium,  adding  much  to  the  picturesque 
effect  of  the  east  end.  In  addition  to  the  western  steeples 
there  are  gabled  towers  which  rise  above  the  aisles  on 
each  side  of  the  choir,  and  the  church  is  remarkable,  like 
the  church  at  Mantes,  for  the  absence  of  transepts.  Per- 
haps, as  the  internal  length  is  not  quite  two  hundred  feet, 
this  is  of  some  advantage  to  the  general  effect.  A  con- 
siderable change  has  at  some  time  been  effected  in  the 
external  appearance  of  the  east  end,  for  on  examination 
I  found  that  each  bay  of  the  triforium  was  formerly 
lighted  by  two  lancet  windows  between  the  clerestory 
and  the  roof  over  the  aisles.  My  impression  is,  that 
this  must  have  been  altered  when  the  chapels  round  the 
apse  were  erected  and  within  a  very  short  time  of  the 
original  construction  of  the  church;   but  whatever  the 

1  The  chapels  round  the  apse  of  Senlis  Cathedral  form  an  inter- 
mediate link  between  the  two  plans  at  S.  Leu.  They  form  exactly 
half  a  circle  on  plan,  and  have  only  two  bays,  one  of  which  is  lighted 
with  a  window.  Externally  they  have  stone  roofs,  finishing  under 
the  triforium  windows.  These  two  churches  should  be  studied  and 
compared  together. 

[147] 


reason,  the  church  has  lost  much  by  the  alteration. 
The  six  bays  of  the  nave  appear  to  have  been  built 
after  the  west  end  and  the  choir.  The  latter  has  a 
noble  very  early-pointed  doorway,  rich  in  chevron  orna- 
ment, and  this  seems  to  have  had  a  porch  gabled  north 
and  south  between  the  towers  so  as  not  to  interfere  with 
the  window  in  the  west  wall  of  the  nave.  The  south- 
west tower  and  spire,  though  small  in  proportion  to  the 
height  of  the  nave,  are  of  elaborate  character.  All  the 
arches  are  round,  and  there  are  two  nearly  similar 
stages  for  the  belfry.  The  spire  has  large  rolls  at  the 
angles  and  in  the  centre  of  each  face  (an  arrangement 
seen  at  Chartres  and  Vendome)  but  in  addition  it  has 
the  F>eculiarity  of  detached  shafts,  standing  clear  of  the 
rolls  on  the  spire  and  held  by  occasional  bands.  They 
have  a  certain  kind  of  quaint  picturesqueness  of  effect, 
but  were  never,  I  think,  imitated  elsewhere.  The  whole 
face  of  the  spire  is  notched  over  with  lines  of  chevroned 
scalloping.  On  entering  the  church  the  first  thing  that  is 
remarked  is  the  excessive  width  of  the  nave  (thirty-six 
feet  between  the  columns)  compared  to  that  of  the  aisles 
(about  twelve  feet) .  The  result  is,  that  a  grand  unbroken 
area  is  obtained  for  worshippers,  whilst  the  aisles  appear 
to  be  simply  passage-ways.  The  general  proportion  of 
the  building  is,  however,  rather  too  low  in  proportion 
for  its  great  width.  Almost  all  the  arches  throughout 
the  church  are,  more  or  less,  stilted,  and  with  the  best 
possible  effect.  When  the  eye  is  thoroughly  accus- 
tomed to  this  it  is  curious  to  notice  how  unsatisfactory 
any  other  form  of  arch  is.  The  fact  is,  that  a  curve 
which  commences  immediately  from  its  marked  point 
of  support  is  never  so  fine  as  where  it  rises  even  a  few 
[148] 


inches  perpendicularly  before  it  springs.  The  capitals 
throughout  the  church  are  finely  carved,  and  those 
round  the  apse  are  of  immense  size,  and  crown  circular 
shafts  of  very  delicate  proportions,  much  as  at  Mantes, 
and  (though  on  a  heavier  scale)  at  Notre  Dame,  Paris. 
The  construction  of  this  part  is  of  the  very  boldest 
character,  and  exemplifies  in  a  very  striking  manner  the 
extreme  skill  in  construction  to  which  the  architects  of 
the  day  had  arrived. 

Great  effect  is  produced  by  the  profusion  of  chevron 
and  nail-head  ornament  used  on  the  exterior  of  the 
church;  a  double  course  of  the  former  of  the  very 
simplest  kind  forms  the  cornice  under  all  the  eaves, 
and  is  also  used  down  the  edges  of  all  the  flying  but- 
tresses. On  the  north  side  of  the  nave  there  still  remains 
a  portion  of  the  cloisters,  of  fine  early  character;  two 
sides  only  remain,  with  a  room  of  the  same  date  with 
groining  resting  on  detached  shafts.  Some  remains  of 
gateways  in  the  old  walls  of  the  abbey  are  worth  notic- 
ing, as  also  the  old  walls  which  surround  the  church, 
built  for  the  most  part  against  the  rock  on  which  it 
stands,  with  here  and  there  very  small  openings,  which 
make  them  look  as  though  they  were  intended  for  de- 
fence. Whilst  I  was  in  the  church  some  boys  came  to 
toll  the  passing-bell.  They  said  that  they  always  did 
so  on  Fridays,  at  three  o'clock.^ 

I  saw  nothing  between  S.  Leu  and  Beauvais,  though 

in  the  part  of  France  bordering  on  the  Oise,  I  believe 

1  No  one  who  visits  S.  Leu  should  omit  to  go  also  to  Senlis.  He 
will  find  a  tower  and  spire  of  unusual  —  if  not  unique —  beauty  and 
elegance.  There  are  two  fine  desecrated  churches,  and  other  remains 
which,  with  the  charming  cathedral,  make  a  lout  ensemble  not  easily 
forgotten.  It  is  a  walk  of  about  six  miles  only  from  S.  Leu  —  passing 
by  Chantilly. 

[149] 


that  every  village  would  afford  something  worth  seeing 
in  its  church.    My  time,  however,  was  limited. 

As  you  reach  Beauvais,  the  country  changes;  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  wood,  a  very  scattered  population,  and 
but  few  churches.  Of  course  the  first  object  of  every 
one  at  Beauvais  is  the  cathedral;  a  building  from  the 
study  of  which  I  derived  less  satisfaction  than  might 
be  expected.  It  is  unpleasant  to  find  an  artist  striving 
after  more  than  he  is  really  able  to  attain,  and  this  was 
conspicuously  the  case  with  the  architect  of  Beauvais. 
The  church  was  consecrated  in  a.d.  1272  and  fell  in  a.d. 
1284.  In  order  to  repair  its  defects  the  arches  of  the 
choir  were  subdivided,  and  from  the  great  size  of  the 
columns,  and  the  narrow  span  of  the  arches,  the  present 
effect  is  that  of  a  church  in  which  the  arches  have  but 
little  to  do,  and  in  which  everything  has  been  sacrificed 
to  keep  the  building  from  falling  again.  Then  when  the 
roofs  and  passages  about  the  building  are  mounted  it  is 
seen  that  the  great  object  of  the  architect  has  been 
simply  to  obtain  one  grand  effect  —  that  of  height  and 
airiness,  and  that  to  this  everything  has  been  sacrificed, 
the  details  throughout  being  poor,  coarse,  and  slovenly 
in  their  mode  of  execution.  The  whole  gave  me  the  im- 
pression of  being  the  work  of  an  unsatisfactory  archi- 
tect, though  at  the  same  time  it  is  impossible  to  deny 
the  excessive  grandeur  of  the  vast  dimensions  of  the 
interior  so  far  as  it  is  completed,  or  the  beauty  of  ar- 
rangement which  marked  the  original  scheme  of  the 
ground-plan,  unpractical  and  unstable  as  it  was.  It 
may  be  right,  however,  to  attribute  some  of  the  failures, 
with  M.  Viollet-le-Duc,  to  the  carelessness  of  workmen; 
though  no  good  architect  allows  himself  to  be  so  excused. 
[150] 


It  seems  very  like  presumption  to  criticise  such  a 
building,  yet  I  know  not  the  use  of  architectural  study 
if  it  is  to  be  pursued  with  that  blind  faith  which  obliges 
one  to  admire  indiscriminately  everything  that  was 
built  in  the  thirteenth  or  fourteenth  century.  The 
mere  fact  that  the  main  intention  of  the  people  of  Beau- 
vais  was  to  build  something  finer  than  their  neighbours 
at  Amiens  is  in  itself  suggestive;  and  I  am  not  surprised 
that  a  building  erected  on  such  terms  is  unworthy  of 
its  age.  It  is  one  of  the  very  few  buildings  of  the  kind 
which  impresses  me  in  this  way;  for  usually  the  feeling 
derived  from  the  study  of  mediaeval  churches  is  one  of 
respect  for  the  absence  of  anything  but  the  most  thor- 
oughly artistic  feeling  on  the  part  of  their  builders.  No 
doubt  the  architect  of  Amiens  did  his  work  in  the  best 
way  he  could,  with  little  reference  to  what  was  being 
done  by  his  neighbours;  and  it  is  curious  that  the  grand 
success  which  he  achieved  should  have  led,  both  at 
Beauvais  and  (I  think  also)  at  Cologne,  to  unworthy 
and  unsuccessful  attempts  at  rivalry.  I  can  quite  see 
that  a  claim  may  be  made  for  the  architect  of  Beauvais, 
as  a  man  of  genius  who  was  not  quite  so  safe  a  construc- 
tor as  his  contemporaries,  but  who  nevertheless  con- 
ceived the  grandest  idea  of  his  age,  as  far  as  size  and 
height  were  concerned.  I  can  only  answer  that  this  is 
not  the  character  of  a  great  architect,  and  would  lead 
me  to  class  him  with  the  architect  of  the  abbey  of  Font- 
hill,  rather  than  with  the  architect  of  Amiens  or  Char- 
tres.  The  first  architect  of  Beauvais  was,  however,  a 
better  architect,  in  some  respects,  than  his  successor; 
for  though  his  details  (seen  in  the  apse  only)  were  not 
of  the  first  order,  those  of  the  latter  are  about  the  worst 
[151] 


I  have  ever  met  with  in  a  French  church  of  such  pre- 
tensions. 

The  glass  in  the  clerestory  windows  has  a  band  of 
figures  and  canopies  crossing  them  at  mid-height,  with 
light  glass  above  and  below:  this  is  an  arrangement 
often  met  with,  and  generally  productive  of  good  effect, 
especially  in  windows  of  such  great  height.  A  museum 
attached  to  the  west  side  of  the  north  transept  contains 
a  few  antiquities;  but  the  feature  of  most  interest  is  a 
late,  but  good  cloister,  noticeable  for  the  extreme  deli- 
cacy of  the  shafts  and  piers  between  the  tref oiled  open- 
ings. In  the  museum  is  a  fair  embroidered  mitre,  which 
belonged  to  F.  de  Rochefoucald,  Bishop  of  Beauvais, 
in  1792. 

The  church  of  S.  Etienne  ^  is,  after  the  cathedral,  the 
great  architectural  attraction  of  Beauvais.  Its  west 
front  has  a  grand  arched  doorway,  with  a  sculptured 
tympanum,  containing  the  Nativity,  the  Adoration  of 
the  Magi,  and  the  Coronation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
and  four  rows  of  figures  of  angels  and  others  in  the 
arch.  The  jambs  and  central  pier  are  completely  de- 
nuded of  all  their  shafts  and  statues,  and  the  whole 
work  is  much  mutilated  in  all  its  parts;  nevertheless,  it 
is  the  best  thing  remaining  in  the  city,  as  far  as  goodness 
of  sculpture  and  detail  can  make  a  work  good.  The 
gable  of  this  porch  runs  back  into  a  triplet,  and  the 
main  gable  has  a  cusped  circular  window,  now  blocked 

^  1  I  copied  the  following  from  the  "Tariff"  of  the  seats  in  S. 
Etienne:  — 

"  Une  stalle  haute  par  annee,  8  fr. 

Une  stalle  basse  "  5  fr. 

Les  deux  premiers  bancs  a  chaque  cote  du  chceur,  8  fr. 

Les  deux  centres  bancs  derriere  I'autel,  7  fr.  50  c." 

[152] 


up.  The  date  of  the  whole  front  is  early  in  the  thirteenth 
century.  On  the  north  side  of  the  nave  there  is  a  fine 
doorway,  of  very  ornate  Romanesque;  it  has  been  care- 
fully repaired.  An  arcade  of  semicircular  arches  above 
the  doorway  is  diapered  with  a  pattern  sunk  in  the 
stone  and  marked  at  regular  intervals  by  red  tiles  in- 
laid, and  about  two  inches  square.  The  effect  is  good, 
and  it  is,  I  suppose,  a  restoration.  The  circular  window 
on  the  north  side  of  the  church  is  remarkable  for  the 
figures  sculptured  outside  its  label;  it  is  evidently  a 
Wheel  of  Fortune  window.^  The  buttresses  of  the  aisles 
are  valuable  examples  of  late  Romanesque  work.  They 
have  a  fair  projection,  but  are  weathered  off  some  five 
or  six  feet  below  the  eaves'  corbel-table;  and  from  their 
summit  in  some  cases  one,  and  in  others  two,  shafts  rise 
to  support  the  corbel-table.  The  choir  is  lofty  flamboy- 
ant work,  but  ugly.  The  nave,  of  early  Transition  char- 
acter, internally  has  very  heavy  groining-shafts,  and  the 
far  from  admirable  peculiarity  of  a  triforium  with  arches 
formed  of  very  flat  segments  of  circles,  and  the  string 
under  the  clerestory  rising  in  the  same  line,  and  forming, 
as  it  were,  a  label  to  the  arch  below. 

The  gateway  to  the  bishop's  palace,  with  its  steep 
and  picturesque  roofs;  the  palace  itself,  with  its  val- 
uable remains  of  Romanesque  work  at  the  back;  a 
portion  of  a  Romanesque  house  near  it;  and  a  fine 
fourteenth-century  gabled  house  in  the  Rue  S.  Vero- 
nique,  with  three  pointed  and  canopied  windows  in  its 
first  floor,  are  the  principal  features  of  interest  after 
the  cathedral  and  S.  j^tienne.    There  is,  too,  a  great 

1  See  the  Illustration  of  a  Wheel  of  Fortune  in  Les  Arts  SomptU' 
aires.  Vol.  II.,  taken  from  a  MS.  in  the  Bibl.  Imp.,  No.  6877. 

[153] 


store  of  fine  timber  houses,  one  of  which,  in  the  Rue  S. 
Thomas,  is  particularly  noticeable  for  the  elaborate  fil- 
ling in  of  encaustic  tiles  between  all  the  timbers. 

From  Beauvais  I  made  an  excursion  of  some  ten  or 
fifteen  miles,  to  see  the  abbey  church  of  S.  Germer. 
It  is  a  church  little  known,  I  suspect,  to  most  English 
tourists,  but  of  very  rare  interest,  and  equal  in  scale  to 
our  churches  of  the  first  class.  The  drive  thither  among 
woods  and  low  undulating  hills  is  pleasant.  The  church 
consists  of  a  nave  and  aisles  of  eight  bays,  transepts, 
and  an  apse  of  seven  sides,  with  an  aisle  and  two  chapels 
on  either  side.  The  place  of  the  central  chapel  at  the 
east  is  occupied  by  a  low  passage  of  three  bays,  leading 
to  a  grand  Lady-chapel  of  four  bays,  with  an  apse  of 
seven.  The  whole  of  the  nave  and  choir  are  of  fine 
style,  in  transition  from  Romanesque  to  pointed.  Ex- 
ternally, hardly  any  but  round  arches  are  seen,  but 
internally  the  main  arches  are  pointed.  I  know  few 
things  much  more  striking  than  the  treatment  of  the 
apse.  The  main  arches  have  their  soffits  composed  of 
a  very  bold  round  member,  with  a  large  chevron  on 
each  side;  and  the  effect  of  this,  in  connection  with  the 
acutely  pointed  arches,  is  strikingly  good.^  Above  this 
is  the  groined  triforium,  opening  to  the  church  with  an 
arcade  of  semicircular  arches,  subdivided  into  two,  and 
supported  on  coupled  detached  shafts.  Immediately 
under  the  rather  plain  clerestory  windows  is  a  corbel- 
table,  and  in  each  bay  square  recesses,  now  blocked  up, 
but  which  look  as  though  they  had  opened  to  the  roof 
of  the  triforium.     The  groining-ribs  of  the  apse  are 

1  This  work  recalls  to  mind  the  work  of  the  same  character  at 
Glastonbury. 

[154] 


large,  and  profusely  adorned  with  sculpture.  The  aisle 
round  the  apse  is  all  built  on  the  curve  (as  is  usually  the 
case  in  early  work),  and  the  groining,  constructed  in  the 
same  way,  has  those  ungraceful  and  difficult  curves 
which  result  from  this  arrangement.  Very  good  low 
metal  parcloses  divide  the  choir  from  the  aisles.  In 
the  nave  some  of  the  capitals  appear  to  be  of  very  early 
date  (especially  along  the  north  wall,  where  the  acan- 
thus is  freely  used) ;  the  whole  of  the  triforium  is  stopped 
up,  but  the  design  of  this  part  of  the  church  seems  to 
have  been  similar  to  that  of  the  choir,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  chevron  round  the  arches.  The  groining,  too, 
save  of  the  two  eastern  bays  of  the  nave,  is  of  later  date. 
At  present  the  only  steeple  is  an  eighteenth  century 
erection  over  the  crossing;  but  there  was  evidently  an 
intention  originally  to  build  two  western  towers.  An 
altar  of  the  same  date  as  the  church,  which  remains  in 
it,  is  of  much  interest,  as  from  its  rather  ornate  char- 
acter it  seems  probable  that  it  was  never  intended  to  be 
covered  with  a  cloth.  It  is  figured  at  p.  180  of  M.  de 
Caumont's  Abecedaire. 

The  exterior  affords  many  features  of  interest.  It  is, 
as  I  have  said,  almost  entirely  round-arched,  and  the 
choir  affords  a  good  example  of  the  triple  division  in 
height,  rendered  necessary  by  the  groined  triforium  and 
the  projecting  chapels  of  the  apse.  The  clerestory  and 
triforium  are  each  lighted  with  one  window  in  each 
bay,  whilst  the  chapels  have  three  windows,  —  a  wide 
one  in  the  centre,  and  a  much  smaller  one  in  each  side. 
There  are  no  flying  buttresses  to  the  clerestory,  but 
small  quasi-buttresses,  formed  of  three-quarters  of  a 
shaft,  finished  under  the  eaves  with  a  conical  capping. 
[155] 


The  eaves  cornice  all  round  the  church,  of  intersecting 
round  arches,  resting  on  corbels,  is  so  similar  in  its 
character  to  some  of  the  work  in  the  beautiful  chapter- 
house of  S.  Georges  de  Boscherville,  that  I  can  hardly 
doubt  that  they  were  executed  under  the  same  influence, 
if  not  even  by  the  same  workmen. 

The  feature,  however,  which  lends  the  most  interest 
to  the  building  and  aids  so  much  in  its  picturesque 
effect  externally,  is  the  grand  Lady-chapel,^  said  to 
have  been  built  by  the  Abbot,  Peter  de  Wesencourt, 
between  the  years  1259  and  1266,  In  plan,  disposition 
and  general  arrangement  it  appears  to  be  as  nearly  as 
possible  identical  with  the  destroyed  Lady-chapel  of 
S.  Germain-des-Pres  at  Paris,  built  by  the  celebrated 
Pierre  de  Montereau,  between  the  years  1247  and  1255. 
Pierre  de  Montereau  built  also  the  S.  Chapelle  at 
Paris,  between  1241  and  1248,  and  died  on  the  17th 
March,  1266.  A  comparison  of  the  design  of  these 
three  buildings  has  induced  me  to  believe  that  in  this 
Lady-chapel  of  S.  Germer  we  have  another  genuine 
work  of  this  great  architect,  for  it  was  built  before  his 
death,  and  is  identical  in  many  of  its  features  with  work 
which  we  know  to  be  his.  The  plan  of  all  these  buildings 
is  identical.2  They  all  had  two  staircase  turrets  and  a 
large  rose-window  at  the  west  end,  a  parapet  above  the 
rose-window,  and  a  smaller  rose  in  the  otherwise  plain 
gable.    The  design  of  the  window  tracery,  the  gables 

^  It  is  sometimes  called  also  the  "Sainie  Chapelle"  of  S.  Germer: 
I  know  not,  however,  on  what  grounds.  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  does 
not  mention  it  in  his  list  of  S.  Chapelles. 

*  There  is  some  reason  for  believing  that  the  Lady-chapel  of  S. 
Germain-des-PrJs  was  groined  with  sexpartite  vaulting:  if  so,  it 
differed  from  the  other  chapels  in  this  respect, 

[156] 


over  the  windows,  the  detail  of  the  staircase  turrets, 
buttresses  and  parapets,  are  all  so  similar  that  my  sug- 
gestion really  scarcely  admits  of  a  doubt.  The  main 
differences  are,  that  at  S.  Germer  the  original  western 
rose-window  is  perfect,  whilst  in  the  S.  Chapelle  it  is 
a  flamboyant  insertion,  and  that  the  chapel  is  of  one 
story  in  place  of  two.  In  this  last  point,  and  in  its  com- 
plete separation  from  the  church,  it  agrees  entirely  with 
the  destroyed  chapel  at  S.  Germain-des-Pres.  The 
passage  between  the  apse  and  the  chapel  is  of  three 
bays,  with  a  doorway  at  the  side,  but,  so  far  as  I  could 
see,  no  trace  of  an  entrance  from  the  apse.  It  is  groined: 
the  windows  (of  four  lights)  are  much  elaborated  with 
mouldings,  and  have  tref oiled  inside  arches:  and  an 
ascent  of  six  steps  leads  from  it  under  a  fine  archway 
into  the  chapel.  There  is  a  north  doorway  in  the  chapel, 
and  the  whole  is  groined.  The  dimensions  appear,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  make  out,  to  be  precisely  the  same  as  at 
S.  Germain,  but  less  than  in  the  S.  Chapelle,  being 
about  twenty-seven  feet  six  inches  in  the  clear  be- 
tween the  groining  shafts,  and  between  seventy  and 
eighty  feet  in  length.  The  original  altar  of  stone, 
supported  on  a  trefoiled  arcading,  remains  fixed  against 
the  east  wall.  This  is  six  feet  five  and  a  quarter 
inches  long  by  three  feet  three  inches  high.  In  the 
museum  at  the  Hotel  Cluny,  at  Paris,  one  of  the  most 
valuable  relics  is  a  stone  retable,  painted  and  gilded, 
formerly  in  this  chapel.  I  have  not  its  dimensions, 
but  it  is  of  much  greater  length  than  this  altar,  and 
I  have  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  principal  altar 
stood  in  its  proper  place  under  the  chord  of  the  apse, 
and  that  the  retable  belonged  to  it.  This  arrangement 
[157] 


was  not  uncommon;  it  was  identical  with  that  of  the 
altars  in  the  S.  Chapelle,  the  same  arrangement  existed 
originally  at  Amiens;  and  we  have  an  instance  of  it  in 
England  in  the  choir  of  Arundel  church. 

The  retable  has  subjects  from  the  life  of  our  Lord, 
and  illustrative  of  the  legend  of  S.  Germer.  In  the  centre 
is  the  Crucifixion,  SS.  Mary  and  John;  to  the  right  of  the 
Virgin  is  the  Church,  and  to  the  left  of  S.  John  the  Syn- 
agogue; then  come  figures  of  SS.  Peter  and  Paul,  the 
Annunciation  and  Salutation,  S.  Ouen  (uncle  of  S.  Ger- 
mer) healing  a  knight,  a  noble  speaking  to  a  pilgrim, 
and  S.  Germer  asking  Dagobert  to  allow  him  to  leave 
the  court,  in  order  to  found  his  abbey.  The  whole  of 
the  figures  are  painted  and  gilded  in  the  most  sumptuous 
and  yet  delicate  fashion,  and  though  much  damaged, 
are  still  sufficiently  perfect  to  be  intelligible. 

M.  de  Caumont  has  given  a  drawing  in  the  Abece- 
daire  ^  of  what  seems  to  be  a  remarkably  fine  shrine,  of 
twelfth  or  thirteenth  century  character,  still  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  commune  of  Coudray,  S.  Germer.  I 
believe  this  is  within  a  few  miles  of  S.  Germer,  and  it 
ought  not  to  be  missed  by  ecclesiologists  who  take  this 
route.  It  has  an  arcade  of  four  tref oiled  arches  on  each 
side,  and  one  at  each  end,  and  has  a  steep  roof  with  a 
fine  open  cresting  at  the  ridge. 

Of  the  other  buildings  of  the  abbey  very  slight  traces 
now  remain.  Close  to  the  west  end  there  is,  however, 
a  very  simple  gate-house,  and  the  modern  conventual 
buildings  appear  to  be  now  used  for  a  school,  superin- 
tended by  nuns. 

S.  Germer  is  certainly  one  of  those  churches  which  no 

1  P.  365. 

[158] 


ecclesiologist  who  goes  to  Beauvais  should  on  any  ac- 
count miss  seeing.  Its  rare  scale,  dignity,  and  archi- 
tectural interest,  and  its  secluded  situation  afford  attrac- 
tions of  the  highest  kind,  and  I  am  confident  that  no 
one  who  takes  my  advice  in  this  matter  will  come  back 
disappointed. 

Ill 

From  Beauvais  I  made  my  way  to  Compiegne, 
where  I  found  but  little  of  much  interest.  The  prin- 
cipal church  is  in  size,  plan,  and  general  design, 
decidedly  conspicuous;  yet  it  is  remarkable  how 
little  there  is  in  it  to  detain  an  architect  beyond  the 
general  effect.  The  bulk  of  the  structure  is  of  good 
uniform  first-pointed  character.  It  consists  of  a  nave 
and  aisle  (fifty-three  feet  in  width)  of  six  bays,  transepts, 
and  an  apsidal  choir,  the  lower  part  of  which  has  been 
modernized  and  has  a  very  badly  planned  flamboyant 
aisle  round  it;  and  there  were  intended  to  be  two  west- 
ern towers.  The  groining  of  the  nave  is  flamboyant. 
The  best  feature  is  the  apse,  which  has  a  glazed  tri- 
forium  of  two  lancet  windows  in  each  bay,  and  a  clere- 
story of  large  single  lancets.  It  is,  I  think,  character- 
istic of  many  French  churches  of  this  fine  scale,  that 
they  afford  much  less  matter  for  study  and  description 
than  our  own  churches  of  one-fourth  the  size  and  pre- 
tension. Their  details  are  so  uniform,  and  their  plan- 
ning so  regular  that  a  description  of  one  bay  is,  in  fact, 
a  description  of  the  whole  church,  and  there  is  nothing 
in  the  shape  of  monumental  effigies,  screens,  brasses,  or 
other  similar  relics,  to  give  a  special  interest  to  each 
part  of  the  building.  When  we  lament  the  general 
[159] 


scarcity  of  examples  of  groining  in  our  English  churches, 
we  ought  not  to  forget  that  it  was,  in  part  at  least,  to 
this  that  we  may  attribute  the  extraordinary  variety 
of  their  character;  for  it  is  undoubtedly  very  much 
more  difficult  to  obtain  those  picturesquely  irregular 
effects  which  charm  us  so  justly  in  English  examples, 
when  groined  roofs  are  used,  than  when  their  place  is 
taken  by  roofs  of  wood.  The  points  of  support  must  be 
much  more  equally  spaced,  the  piers  more  regularly 
planned,  and  each  portion  more  exactly  a  reproduc- 
tion of  every  other  portion;  and  it  has  sometimes 
struck  me  as  possible  that  we  owe  the  much  greater 
variety  of  designs  in  the  treatment  even  of  our  groining, 
as  compared  with  the  French,  to  the  great  love  of  change 
and  variety  which  our  architects  had  imbibed  in  dealing 
so  largely  with  wooden-roofed  buildings.  In  this  re- 
spect indeed,  they  sometimes  ran  into  excesses  for  which 
they  had  no  example,  and  happily,  no  imitators  on  the 
Continent;  but  on  the  whole,  we  have  undoubtedly 
reason  to  be  grateful  for  a  feature  in  our  national  art 
which  helped  to  place  it  in  so  high  a  position  when 
compared  with  that  of  other  countries. 

Another  church,  dedicated  to  S.  Antoine,  is  of  large 
size  and  late  flamboyant  style.  It  has  a  fine  font  (now 
disused)  of  the  same  character  and  material  as  the 
well  known  fonts  at  Winchester,  East  Meon,  and  South- 
ampton ;  the  bowl  of  which  is  no  less  than  three  feet  nine 
inches  square.  The  floor  of  the  nave  of  this  church  is 
boarded,  and  fitted  up  with  very  smart  chairs,  whilst  the 
aisles  have  tiled  floors  and  common  chairs,  and  there  is 
a  rail  fixed  between  the  columns  to  shut  in  the  select 
occupants  of  the  smart  chairs.  It  is  a  mistake,  there- 
[160] 


fore,  to  suppose  that  the  introduction  of  chairs  will 
necessarily  secure  the  annihilation  of  the  pew  system. 
Here,  too,  I  saw  a  " mandement"  of  the  Bishop  of  Beau- 
vais,  Senlis  and  Noyon,  dated  Dec.  8th,  1856,  ordering 
the  adoption  of  the  Roman  liturgy,  in  place  of  the  local 
uses,  of  which  he  says  there  were  no  less  than  nine  in 
his  diocese,  so  that  it  often  happened  that  the  same 
priest  "  charge  de  deux  paroisses,  trouve  dans  I'Eglise 
ou  il  va  celebrer  une  premiere  Messe  une  liturgie 
differente  de  celle  qui  s'observe  dans  la  paroisse  ou  il 
reside:"  —  "le  chant,  les  ceremonies,  la  couleur  des 
ornemens,  les  usages,  tout  est  change."  The  Bishop 
interdicted,  among  others,  the  Missals  of  Beauvais, 
Noyon,  Senlis,  Amiens,  Meaux,  and  Rouen,  and  his 
order  took  effect  from  Whitsunday,  1857. 

Of  less  distinctly  ecclesiastical  edifices  Compiegne 
retains  some  remains.  A  cloister  in  the  Caserne  S. 
Corneille  is  a  good  example.  The  arches  have  no 
tracery,  and  the  piers  have  buttresses  to  resist  the  thrust 
of  the  groining.  This  is  very  simple  but  good  work, 
though  late  in  the  fourteenth  century.  The  old  Hotel- 
Dieu,  too,  has  a  characteristic  gable  end  towards  the 
street,  divided  by  a  central  buttress,  and  with  a  pointed 
archway  below  and  a  large  window  above  in  each  division. 

The  very  picturesque  front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  has 
been  recently  very  carefully  restored,  but  so  completely, 
that  it  looks  almost  like  a  new  building.  The  effect  of 
the  front  is  very  good,  though  the  belfry  tower  rises 
awkwardly  from  behind  the  parapet  of  the  building. 
There  is  an  illustration  of  this  building  in  M.  Verdier's 
Architecture  Civile  et  Domestique,  which  will  enable 
your  readers  to  understand  the  character  of  this  pic- 
[161] 


turesque  though  late  building  better  than  any  descrip- 
tion that  I  can  give.  The  roof  of  the  main  building,  as 
well  as  that  of  the  turrets  at  the  angles  and  the  belfry, 
is  covered  with  slate:  and  it  is  worth  notice  how  much 
the  effect  of  these  roofs  depends  upon  the  thinness  of 
the  slate,  its  small  size  and  the  sharpness  and  neatness 
with  which  it  is  cut.  Foreign  slating  is  in  truth  just  as 
good  in  its  effect  as  ours  is  generally  bad  and  coarse. 

The  chateau  of  Pierrefonds  ought  to  be  visited  from 
Compiegne.  The  ruins  must  be  interesting,  and  I  believe 
the  site  is  very  picturesque.  It  is  a  fashionable  place  of 
resort,  and  at  a  distance  of  some  three  hours  through 
the  forest  from  Compiegne.  M.  Viollet-le-Duc's  de- 
scription of  the  buildings  is  known  probably  to  most 
of  your  readers. 

From  Compiegne  I  made  my  way  to  Soissons.  It  was 
here  that  on  this  journey  I  came  first  on  the  grand  style 
which  distinguishes  the  buildings  of  this  part  of  France. 
Laon,  chief  in  grandeur,  both  natural  and  architectural, 
Noyon,  S.  Quentin,  Meaux,  and  Soissons,  are  magnifi- 
cent illustrations  of  the  main  features  of  the  style: 
whilst  smaller  churches,  remains  of  abbeys,  such  as 
those  of  Ourscamp  (near  Noyon)  and  Longpont  (near 
Soissons),  and  of  castles,  such  as  Coucy-le-Chateau, 
enable  us  to  appreciate  all  its  varieties.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  stream  of  English  travellers  will  for  the 
future  set  more  in  this  direction  than  it  has  hitherto 
done,  since  it  is  now  possible  in  going  to  Strasbourg  to 
take  the  railway  through  this  country  to  Rheims,  and 
in  so  doing  to  make  acquaintance  with  a  group  of 
churches,  which  impress  me  more  and  more  each  time 
that  I  see  them.    They  are  remarkable  evidence  also  of 

[162] 


1'!^ 
H^^/ 


Ij    l! 

;j  1  ! 

■Ml 
%  \ 

■   !    ■           '    ! 

:  M    •       • 

■SI?-'' 

THE  SOUTH   TRANSEPT  AT  SOISSONS 


<■.- 


the  wonderful  vigour  of  the  age  in  which  they  were  built: 
for  they  are  all  of  very  nearly  the  same  date  —  the  end 
of  the  twelfth  and  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
and  conceived  on  the  grandest  possible  scale.  Indeed, 
France,  under  Philip  Augustus,  affords  a  spectacle  such 
as  perhaps  no  other  country  in  the  world  can  show .  For 
if  we  think  of  the  wars  which  characterized  his  reign,  it 
is  almost  incredible  that  it  should  nevertheless  at  the 
same  time  have  been  possible  to  found  such  cathedrals 
as  those  of  Paris,  Bourges,  Chartres,  Amiens,  Laon, 
Meaux,  Soissons,  Noyon,  Rouen,  Seez,  Coutances, 
Bayeux :  yet  such  was  the  case,  and  some  of  them  were 
completed  in  but  a  few  years  with  extraordinary 
energy. 

Few  things  are  more  impressive  than  the  cathedral 
of  Laon,  even  in  its  present  state:  and  what  must  it  not 
have  been  with  its  central  steeple  and  the  six  towers 
and  spires  which  once  adorned  its  several  fronts,  rising, 
as  they  all  did,  from  the  summit  of  a  mighty  hill,  seen 
on  all  sides  for  many  a  long  mile  by  the  dwellers  in  the 
plain  which  stretches  away  from  its  feet!  And  yet, 
magnificent  as  is  the  cathedral  of  Laon,  it  is  one  only 
among  many;  and  such  a  city  as  Soissons,  inferior  as 
it  is  in  situation,  affords  nevertheless  in  its  architectural 
remains,  matter  of  almost  equal  interest. 

The  general  view  of  Soissons,  obtained  from  the  dis- 
tance, is  striking  only  for  its  architectural  character. 
The  effect  is  mainly  attributable  to  the  fact,  that  in 
addition  to  the  cathedral,  with  its  lofty  south-west 
steeple,  the  town  also  contains  the  west  front,  with  two 
towers  and  spires,  of  the  ruined  abbey  of  S.  Jean  des 
Vignes.  It  is  to  this  ruin  that  the  eye  first  turns  in  antic- 
[163] 


ipation  of  discovering  the  famous  cathedral  of  the  city; 
but  a  little  acquaintance  with  the  details  of  the  two 
buildings  leaves  no  room  to  doubt  that  the  cathedral, 
with  its  lonely  steeple,  is  nevertheless  by  very  much  the 
most  interesting  and  noble  example  of  art  which  the 
city  contains. 

Let  us  at  once,  then,  bend  our  steps  thither.  We 
shall  find  a  church,  the  greater  part  of  which  dates  prob- 
ably from  the  end  of  the  twelfth  or  the  first  years  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  whilst  its  plan  is  very  remarkable, 
and  its  details  in  some  parts  of  exquisite  beauty.  In  plan 
it  consists  of  two  western  towers  (one  of  which  only  is 
built),  nave  and  aisles  of  seven  bays,  transepts  (of 
which  more  presently),  a  choir  of  five  bays,  and  an  apse 
of  five  sides;  chapels  are  obtained  between  the  but- 
tresses of  the  choir,  and  the  apse  is  surrounded  by  an 
aisle  and  five  chapels;  these  chapels  are  circular  in  plan 
at  the  ground  line,  octagonal  above,  and  are  groined 
with  a  vault  which  covers  the  aisle  also;  this  is  a  mode 
which  is  seldom  satisfactory  in  execution,  and  a  falling 
off  from  the  structural  truth  of  those  plans  in  which 
the  groining  of  each  chapel  is  complete  in  itself,  and  dis- 
tinct from  that  of  the  aisle.  The  south  transept  is  fin- 
ished with  an  apse,  and  has  a  small  circular  chapel  of 
two  stages  in  height  attached  on  its  south-eastern  side. 
The  north  transept  is  square-ended  and  of  later  date. 

It  is  impossible  to  examine  Soissons  cathedral  with- 
out having  recollections  of  several  other  churches  forced 
upon  the  mind.  At  Noyon,  for  instance,  we  have  a 
grand  example  of  a  church  of  the  same  date,  both  of 
the  transepts  of  which  are  apsidal ;  but  the  south  tran- 
sept of  Soissons  has  a  great  advantage  over  its  neigh- 
[164] 


bour,  in  that  it  has  an  aisle  round  the  transept  opening 
with  three  arches,  supported  upon  slender  and  lofty 
shafts,  into  each  bay,  both  on  the  ground  level  and  in 
the  triforium.  Indeed  there  are  few  fairer  works  of  the 
period  than  this  south  transept  of  Soissons;  for  whether 
we  regard  its  plan,  general  scheme,  or  detail  of  design 
and  sculpture,  all  alike  show  the  presence  of  a  master 
hand  in  its  conception  and  execution;  —  the  same  hand, 
I  suppose,  as  is  seeri  at  Noyon,  but  at  a  slightly  later 
period.  Then,  again,  a  comparison  of  Soissons  with 
Meaux  will  show  so  great  a  similarity  of  plan,  dimen- 
sions, and  design  in  their  eastern  apses,  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  avoid  the  conclusion  that  they  were  the  works 
of  the  same  man,  and  at  about  the  same  time.  And 
each  of  these  churches  has  nevertheless  some  one  spe- 
cial feature  of  its  own,  wherein  it  is  unique  and  un- 
matched; Soissons  has  its  exquisite  south  transept, 
Noyon  its  western  porch,  and  Laon  its  cluster  of  steeples, 
by  which  every  one  who  has  seen  them  must  especially 
have  been  struck. 

One  of  the  features  which  most  marks  the  churches 
of  this  school  is  the  fourfold  division  in  height  of  the 
main  walls.  There  is  first  the  arcade,  then  the  trifo- 
rium^ (which  is  large,  groined,  and  lighted  with  its  own 
windows),  then  a  blank  arcade  which  is  analogous  to 
the  triforia  of  our  English  churches,  and  astly  the  clere- 
story.   I  cannot  say  that  this  arrangement  is  ever  pleas- 

^  These  groined  triforia  are  called  tribunes  by  the  French  an- 
tiquaries. At  Montierender,  where  both  occur,  the  upper  stage  is 
more  than  usually  similar  to  our  English  triforia;  and  in  all  these 
cases  it  would  perhaps  be  best  to  accept  the  French  terminology  as 
being  substantially  correct.  The  tribune  is,  in  fact,  a  second  stage 
of  the  aisle. 

[  165  ] 


ing.  The  clerestory  always  looks  disproportionately 
small  and  dwarfed,  and  the  blank  arcade  below  it  rather 
unmeaning,  whilst  all  the  divisions  have  the  appearance 
of  being  cramped  and  confined.  At  Soissons  it  occurs  in 
the  south  transept,  but  not  in  the  nave  —  where  we  see 
the  usual  triple  division.  Some  of  the  capitals  here  are 
well  sculptured,  though  generally  very  simply,  and  in 
the  transept  they  are  often  held  with  iron  ties  (as  in 
Italian  examples)  to  resist  the  thrust  of  the  groining.  I 
should  notice  that  the  whole  of  the  walling  in  this  tran- 
sept is  circular  on  plan;  this  is  generally  a  mark  of  early 
date,  and  though  it  gave  rise  to  some  complexity  in  the 
arches  and  groining,  it  undoubtedly  often  produces  a 
very  charming  effect.  The  windows  of  the  three  east- 
ern chapels  are  full  of  richly-coloured  early  glass,  rather 
rudely  drawn  and  executed;  some  of  it,  I  suspect,  came 
from  the  clerestory,  the  eastern  portion  of  which  is  still 
full  of  similar  glass.  The  clerestory  has  large  lancet 
windows  and  flying  buttresses  of  two  stages  in  height, 
with  the  arches  supported  upon  detached  shafts,  and  a 
passage  behind  the  lower  order  on  a  level  with  the  sill 
of  the  clerestory  windows. 

On  the  exterior,  one  of  the  most  noticeable  features 
is  that  the  ridge  of  the  south  transept  roof  rises  no 
higher  than  the  eaves  of  the  rest  of  the  church.  Yet 
such  is  the  care  with  which  the  design  is  managed,  that 
this  smallness  of  scale  is  not  noticed,  until  from  a  dis- 
tance a  general  view  of  the  building  is  obtained,  when 
it  looks  undoubtedly  very  lop-sided. 

From  the  cathedral  one  goes  naturally  to  the  ruined 
but  still  imposing  church  of  the  great  abbey  of  S.  Jean 
des  Vignes.   The  west  front  of  this  church  is  exactly  in  a 
[166] 


line  with  that  of  the  cathedral,  at  a  distance  of  about  a 
furlong;  and  standing  on  higher  ground,  and  still  re- 
taining its  two  towers  and  spires,  it  produces  a  greater 
effect  in  the  genera!  views  of  the  city.  It  is  now  the 
centre  of  the  arsenal,  with  powder-stores,  piles  of  shot, 
and  various  other  preparations  all  around  it,  which 
afford  subject  for  rather  gloomy  forebodings,  in  case 
Soissons  should  again  suffer  (as  it  has  so  often  already 
suffered)  the  danger  of  a  siege.  The  remains  of  the 
church  are  almost  confined  to  the  steeples  and  west 
front.  The  lower  portions  of  these  date  from  the  thir- 
teenth century,  but  the  upper  portion  is  all  of  a  very 
ornate  and  rather  late  middle-pointed  style;  they  are 
very  pyramidal  in  their  outline,  and  have  a  rather 
heavy  arrangement  of  pinnacles  at  the  base  of  the  spires. 
The  belfry-window  of  the  north-west  tower  has  a  very 
large  stone  crucifix  contrived  against  its  monial  and 
tracery;  there  is  a  canopy  in  the  tympanum  over  the 
head  of  our  Lord,  and  the  tracery  seems  to  have 
been  designed  with  a  special  view  to  the  introduction 
of  the  figure.  The  spires  are  crocketed  on  the  angles, 
scalloped  on  the  face,  and  pierced  with  alternate  slits 
and  quatrefoils.  The  sculpture  of  this  front  is  not  of 
very  good  character.  From  the  south  of  the  south-west 
tower  extends  a  remarkably  fine  portion  of  the  domestic 
buildings  of  the  abbey,  two  stages  in  height,  and  eight 
bays  in  length.  Its  south  end  has  the  favourite  French 
arrangement  of  a  central  buttress  between  two  large 
circular  windows,  with  two  lancet  windows  in  the  gable. 
On  the  west  side  each  bay  has  a  fine  simple  pointed 
window:  whilst  on  the  east  side  the  lower  part  is  con- 
cealed by  the  cloister,  and  the  upper  stage  has  a  row  of 
[167] 


plain  circular  windows,  similar  to  those  at  the  south  end. 
The  steep-pitched  roof  still  remains,  and  the  whole 
building  is  a  very  fine  relic,  even  among  the  relics  of 
this  kind  in  which  France  is  so  peculiarly  rich.  The 
remains  of  the  cloister  are  in  a  very  dilapidated  state. 
Drawings  which  I  had  seen  of  it  had  prepared  me  for 
earlier  and  better  work  than  I  found.  I  imagine  that  it 
is  not  earlier  than  circa  a.d.  1300.  The  sculptured  foli- 
age is  in  exact  imitation  of  nature,  very  pretty,  and  no 
more.  It  is,  however,  singularly  instructive,  as  it  illus- 
trates just  the  kind  of  work  which  our  English  carvers 
are  most  prone  to  introduce  just  now,  and  which  is  gen- 
erally (as  it  is  here)  very  ineffective  for  want  of  due 
architectural  subordination.  The  windows  of  this  clois- 
ter are  of  four  lights,  with  geometrical  tracery;  but  the 
chief  peculiarity  is  the  treatment  of  the  buttresses, 
which  are  angular  on  the  face,  and  above  the  springing 
of  the  windows  crocketed  on  the  angles.  Had  the  sculp- 
ture been  fifty  years  earlier  in  date,  it  would,  I  have  no 
doubt,  have  been  a  singularly  beautiful  cloister.  A  door- 
way which  opened  from  the  cloister  to  the  church  is 
peculiarly  flat  in  its  mouldings  and  sculpture,  but  re- 
markable for  the  still  existing  traces  of  painting  over  its 
whole  surface.  The  foundations  of  the  east  wall  show 
that  the  church  was  not  of  any  great  length  from  east 
to  west. 

The  church  of  S.  Leger  is  the  finest  edifice  after  these 
of  which  the  city  can  now  boast.  Anywhere  its  transepts 
and  choir  would  be  of  great  interest  for  their  early  thir- 
teenth-century date,  and  their  good  architectural  char- 
acter. The  church  consists  of  a  nave  and  aisles  of  six 
bays  (of  which  the  four  western  are  Renaissance), 
[168] 


transepts  of  two  bays  in  depth,  and  a  choir  without 
aisles,  which  has  one  bay  of  sexpartite  groining,  and  an 
apse  of  seven  sides.  The  detail  is  very  much  the  same 
as  in  the  cathedral.  The  clerestory  windows  in  the 
apse  are  lancets,  and  in  the  rest  of  the  church  of  two 
lights  with  tracery,  consisting  of  a  cusped  circle  within 
an  enclosing  arch.  In  these  Soissonnais  churches  the 
label  generally  has  a  ball  or  four-leaved  flower  at  inter- 
vals. There  is  a  procession  path  or  passage,  with  open- 
ings in  the  buttresses,  round  the  church  outside  the 
clerestory  windows,  dividing  the  church  very  markedly 
into  two  divisions  in  height,  and  recalling  to  memory 
the  very  similar  arrangement  in  the  church  of  S.  Eliza- 
beth at  Marburg.  The  transept  has  fine  angle  pinnacles 
and  a  large  three-light  window  with  early  tracery, 
whilst  the  cloister  is  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  S. 
Jean  des  Vignes.  Stepped  gables  are  a  favourite  fea- 
ture here  even  in  early  work.  The  aisles  of  S.  Leger 
are  so  finished,  as  is  also  an  early  building  by  the  side  of 
the  cathedral. 

The  church  of  S.  Pierre,  which  is  desecrated,  has  a 
west  front  of  much  interest.  It  has  a  nave  and  aisles, 
three  western  doorways  (whereof  the  central  is  pointed, 
the  others  round),  and  a  single  wide,  round-arched  win- 
dow over  each  door.  The  detail  is  peculiar,  —  of  late 
Romanesque  character,  and  effective.  Only  two  bays 
of  the  nave  remain.  The  labels  and  string-courses  have 
a  dogtooth  enrichment,  whilst  the  cornice  above  them 
is  adorned  with  a  regular  acanthus-leaf.  The  shafts 
of  the  west  door  are  fluted;  and  in  this,  as  in  the  quad- 
ruple arrangement  in  height,  which  I  have  already 
noticed  as  a  frequent  characteristic  of  the  Soissonnais 

[169] 


churches,  I  suspect  we  may  trace  the  influence  of  the 
grand  church  of  S.  Remi  at  Rheims. 

Of  domestic  buildings  there  are  but  few  traces  in 
Soissons.  The  best  are:  a  building  near  the  west  front 
of  the  cathedral,  with  stepped  gables,  central  buttresses 
in  the  end,  and  good  simple  three-light  windows  in  each 
bay;  —  a  house  in  the  Cloitre  S.  Gervais,  near  the  north 
transept  of  the  cathedral,  with  a  steep  unpierced  gable 
and  three  two-light  windows  in  the  stage  just  below  it, 
and  an  unpierced  ground  story;  —  and  an  old  hospital 
near  the  cathedral,  of  good  early-pointed  work,  without 
groining,  but  with  transverse  arches  from  column  to 
column,  —  the  capitals  being  carved,  and  the  arches 
quite  square  in  section. 

From  Soissons,  an  excursion  ought  to  be  made  to  the 
abbey  of  Longpont.^  I  was  not  aware  at  the  time  I  was 
there  that  it  was  in  this  neighbourhood,  but  I  believe 
that  it  is  only  some  eight  or  ten  miles  distant,  and  that 
the  church  is  of  rare  interest  and  grandeur.  I  regret 
extremely  my  inability  to  give  any  notes  of  it. 

A  walk  of  a  mile  across  meadows  took  me  to  the  re- 
mains of  the  great  abbey  of  S.  Medard.  These  are 
very  slight  and  consist  of  some  remains  of  crypts,  in 
which  are  preserved  portions  of  buildings  or  monu- 
ments which  have  been  dug  up  from  time  to  time.  An 
old  view  of  S.  Medard  shows  it  surrounded  by  fortified 
walls,  enclosing  a  vast  range  of  buildings  and  two  or 
three  churches.  Of  all  this  nothing  now  remains,  beyond 
a  modern  house,  converted  into  an  asylum  for  deaf  and 

^  The  abbey  church  of  Longpont  was  dedicated  in  A.D.  1227,  in 
the  presence  of  S.  Louis.  Its  value  as  a  dated  example  is  therefore 
considerable,  independent  of  its  high  architectural  interest. 

[170] 


dumb,  in  one  portion  of  wiiich  remains  an  old  vaulted 
apartment,  now  used  as  tlie  ciiapel  of  tlie  institution. 

From  Soissons,  I   made  my  way  across  country  to 
Ciiateau  Coucy.  .  .  .  and  from  Coucy,  I  made  a  con- 
siderable detour  to  visit  the  abbey  of  Premontre.    The 
situation  is  very  striking,  in  a  narrow  valley,  closed  in  on 
all  sides  with  steep,  thickly-wooded  hills,  and  with  only 
a  few  dependent  cottages  leading  up  to  the  gate  of  the 
abbey.     This  was  the  chief  house  of  the  Premonstra- 
tensian  Order,  which  established  as  many  as  thirty-five 
houses  in  England.    The  abbots  of  the  order  were  bound 
to  meet  once  a  year  at  Premontre,  and  as  there  were  as 
many  as  a  thousand  abbeys  belonging  to  them,  the  wild 
valley  must  then  have  presented  a  singular  contrast  to  its 
present  deserted  state.    Until  lately  the  buildings  have 
been  used  as  a  glass  manufactory:  but  they  have  just 
been  purchased  by  the  Bishop  of  Soissons  (who  seems  to 
have  a  great  character  for  piety  and  liberality  among  the 
people)  for  an  orphanage.     I  saw  the  nun  who  holds  the 
post  of  superior  of  the  institution,  and  obtained  permis- 
sion to  search  for  remains  of  the  old  buildings:  she 
seemed  much  surprised  at  my  demand,  and  with  some 
reason,  as  the  only  traces  left  of  them  are  a  portion  of  (I 
think)  a  crypt  under  the  church,  which  has  fallen  with  its 
groining,  and  is  left  a  confused  mass  of  stones,  just  as  it 
fell.    On  my  way  from  Premontre,  I  passed,  between 
Anizy-le-Chateau  and  Laon,  a  very  interesting  example 
of  a  village  church  at  (I  believe)  Chalvour.    It  is  cruci- 
form, with  a  good  central  gabled  tower.    The  chancel 
has  single  lancet  windows  to  the  east  and  south,  and  the 
south  transept  a  large  boldly-cusped  circular  window, 
and  a  small  projection  on  the  east  for  the  altar,  also 
[171] 


lighted  with  a  circular  window.  The  chancel,  tower,  and 
transepts,  are  groined:  the  nave  (with  its  aisles)  is  of 
inferior  work.  Altogether,  this  is  a  very  characteristic 
thirteenth  century  church,  of  bold  and  vigorous  char- 
acter, and  severely  simple  in  all  its  details. 

An  ascent  of  about  two  miles  leads  up  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  on  which  Laon  is  perched,  to  the  western 
extremity  of  the  city.  And  here  I  must  pause,  trusting 
another  time  to  say  somewhat  of  the  architectural  glo- 
ries of  the  place,  upon  which  I  suppose  I  can  scarcely 
descant  too  enthusiastically. 

IV 

The  two  great  architectural  attractions  of  Laon 
are  the  cathedral  and  its  subordinate  buildings,  and 
the  fine  church  of  S.  Martin.  They  are  situated 
at  the  two  extremities  of  the  long  narrow  ridge  on 
which  the  town  is  built,  which  towards  the  east  falls 
precipitously  on  three  sides  almost  from  the  very  walls 
of  the  cathedral  down  to  the  broad  vast  plain  which 
extends  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  and  from  all  parts 
of  which  the  grand  mass  of  the  building,  with  its  almost 
unrivalled  cluster  of  steeples,  is  seen  standing  —  just 
as  our  own  glorious  Lincoln  —  on  the  very  spot  of  all 
others  fitted  for  a  diocesan  throne. 

I  know  no  church  which  is  altogether  more  calculated 
to  leave  a  lasting  impression  on  the  mind  than  the 
cathedral.  What  is  wanting  in  grace  and  delicacy  is 
amply  atoned  for  in  force  and  majesty;  and  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  plan,  the  short  period  which  seems  to 
have  elapsed  between  its  commencement  and  completion, 
[172] 


and  the  almost  entire  absence  of  later  additions  or  alter- 
ations, combine  to  make  it  in  every  respect  of  the  utmost 
value  to  the  architectural  student.  The  stern,  solemn 
majesty  of  its  art  is  just  what  we  modern  men  ought  to 
endeavour  to  impress  ourselves  with;  but  whilst  I  be- 
lieve that  all  students  would  be  enormously  benefited, 
they  must  not  come  here  under  the  impression  that  they 
are  to  see  work  which  is  pretty  and  attractive  in  the 
same  sense  or  degree  as  S.  Ouen  at  Rouen,  or  Cologne 
cathedral. 

In  plan  this  church  has  the  remarkable  peculiarity  of 
a  square  east  end,  and  consists  of  a  nave  and  choir 
respectively  of  eleven  and  ten  bays  in  length,  transepts 
with  an  eastern  apsidal  chapel  to  each,  a  small  cloister 
on  the  south  side  of  the  nave,  and  sacristies  formed  in 
the  angles  between  the  transepts  and  choir.  The  groin- 
ing is  sexpartite  in  the  principal  vaults,  and  quadri- 
partite in  the  aisles;  there  is  a  large  vaulted  triforium, 
and  the  fourfold  division  in  height  to  which  I  have 
already  referred  as  a  characteristic  of  many  of  the 
churches  of  this  district.  But  the  most  noteworthy 
feature  is  that  the  three  principal  facades  —  on  the 
west,  north,  and  south — were  each  intended  to  have  two 
towers  and  spires,  whilst  a  lantern  crowned  the  crossing. 
No  less  than  four  of  these  towers  and  the  lantern  still 
remain  (though  without  their  spires,  shown  in  an  en- 
graving by  du  Sommerard),  as  well  as  the  lower  portion 
of  the  others.  On  the  east  and  north  the  cathedral  is 
enclosed  with  extensive  ranges  of  coeval  buildings  be- 
longing to  the  bishop's  palace,  including  the  small 
private  chapel,  to  which  I  must  recur  again. 

Let  us  hear  what  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  says  about  the 
[173] 


characteristics  of  this  cathedral  of  Laon:  ^  —  "La  cathe- 
drale  de  Laon  conserve  quelque  chose  de  son  origine 
democratique;  elle  n'a  pas  I'aspect  religieux  des  egiises 
de  Chartres,  d'Amiens  ou  de  Reims.  De  loin,  elle  parait 
un  chateau  plutot  qu'une  eglise;  sa  nef  est,  compara- 
tivement  aux  nefs  ogivales  et  m§me  a  celle  de  Noyon, 
basse;  sa  physionomie  exterieure  est  quelque  peu  brutale 
et  sauvage;  et  jusqu'a  ces  sculptures  colossales  d'ani- 
maux,  boeufs,  chevaux,  qui  semblent  garder  les  sommets 
des  tours  de  la  fagade,  tout  concourt  a  produire  une 
impression  d'effroi  plutot  qu'un  sentiment  religieux, 
lorsqu'on  gravit  le  plateau  sur  lequel  elle  s'eleve.  On  ne 
sent  pas,  en  voyant  Notre  Dame  de  Laon,  I'empreinte 
d'une  civilisation  avancee  et  policee  comme  a  Paris  ou 
a  Amiens;  la,  tout  est  rude,  hardi:  c'est  le  monument 
d'un  peuple  entreprenant,  energique  et  plein  d'un  male 
grandeur.  Ce  sont  les  memes  hommes  que  Ton  retrouve 
a  Coucy-le-Chateau  —  c'est  une  race  de  geants." 

I  am  disposed  to  think  that  M.  le-Duc  scarcely  values 
the  architecture  of  Laon  sufficiently  highly,  and  that  he 
is  mistaken  in  his  idea  of  the  democratic  character  im- 
parted to  it  by  the  turbulence  of  the  citizens  at  the 
time  of  its  erection.  It  appears  to  me  that  the  peculiar- 
ity of  its  character  is  derived  much  more  from  some 
connection  with  German  art,  and  I  believe  that  the 
churches  throughout  this  part  of  France  show  many 
evidences  of  such  a  connection.  The  planning  of  the 
towers  of  Laon  is  very  German;  I  need  hardly  adduce 
examples  from  the  Rhine  district,  where,  as  we  all  know, 
the  steeples  are  treated  as  so  many  great  turrets,  nearly 
similar  in  size,  height,  and  design,  whilst  the  crossing 
^  Dictionnaire,  Vol.  11 .  p.  309. 

[  174  3 


is  often  marked  by  a  low  lantern.  The  grand  cathedral 
at  Tournai  in  this  respect  resembles  very  strongly  that 
of  Laon;  and  if  we  were  coming  from  Germany  into 
France,  we  might  at  Andernach,  Coblentz,  Treves,  and 
Chalons-sur-Marne  (in  the  church  of  Notre  Dame),  see 
a  regular  sequence  of  buildings  by  which  we  should 
arrive  without  any  very  great  or  sensible  break  at  Laon. 
The  groined  triforium  is  another  well  known  German 
feature,  and  though  the  apse  is  a  very  general  termina- 
tion to  German  churches,  it  is  yet  not  impossible  that 
its  absence  at  Laon  may  be  an  evidence  of  Germanic 
origin,  as  we  do  meet  there  with  some  examples  of  the 
same  kind.  In  one  particular  feature  I  am  able  to  trace 
a  most  singular  coincidence  with  a  German  example, 
to  which,  however,  I  do  not  wish  to  attach  very  much 
weight,  though  it  is  undoubtedly  curious.  The  steeples 
at  Laon  are  very  fine  compositions  —  I  should  hardly 
speak  too  strongly  of  the  steeple  of  the  south  transept, 
were  I  to  say  that  it  is  the  best-designed  steeple  in 
France,  —  marked  by  turrets  at  the  angles,  which  are 
either  octagonal  or  square  in  plan  with  shafts  at  their 
angles,  and  very  beautiful  in  their  effect.  In  the  west 
front  one  of  the  stages  has,  in  these  open  turrets,  large 
figures  of  oxen  and  other  animals  looking  out  from  be- 
tween the  shafts  on  the  city  roofs  far  away  below,  —  a 
quaint  conceit,  which  one  would  suppose  to  be  a  purely 
personal  and  peculiar  device,  and  of  which  nevertheless 
there  is  an  almost  exact  repetition  in  the  very  similar 
steeples  of  the  grand  cathedral  at  Bamberg. 

My  belief  is,  that  as  we  can  trace  a  stream  of  Italian 
art  coming  to  the  south  and  south-west  of  France,  and 
thence  working  on  to  the  north  in  gradual  and  steady 
[175] 


development,  so  we  may  also  see  the  same  thing  here. 
Italian  art  first  spread  down  the  Rhine,  and  thence' 
spread  right  and  left,  and  in  these  border  provinces  of 
France  influenced  to  a  greater  extent  than  is  generally 
supposed  the  French  architects.  On  their  part  there  was 
a  peculiar  skill  and  art  displayed  which  soon  enabled 
them  to  develop  from  the  germ  which  they  received; 
but  the  Romanesque  work  out  of  which  they  developed 
their  buildings  was  of  a  different  order  from  that  which 
was  the  ground-work  on  which  the  architects  of  Poitiers, 
Bourges,  and  Chartres  had  to  work;  the  latter  having 
in  Italy  a  Byzantine  origin,  whilst  that  of  the  Rhine 
churches  was  rather  Romanesque.  Something  therefore 
of  the  magnificent  character  of  the  best  early  French 
Gothic  is  owing  to  Germany,  and  it  was  the  situation 
of  the  lie  de  France,  the  meeting  point  as  it  were  of 
these  two  developments,  which  made  it  the  centre  from 
which  the  best  Gothic  architecture  of  the  world  naturally 
sprang.  But  whatever  was  the  history  of  Laon  cathe- 
dral, no  one  can  doubt  the  excessive  grandeur  of  the 
result.  No  doubt  the  magnificence  of  the  situation, 
which  recalls  forcibly  some  of  the  most  interesting  of 
Italian  cities,  such  as  Siena  and  Perugia,  has  something 
to  do  with  the  colouring  of  memories  of  Laon;  but  in 
the  church  itself  there  is  but  one  point  on  which  it  is 
possible  to  feel  that  there  is  any  serious  shortcoming, 
and  this,  as  an  Englishman,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  say 
is  the  absence  of  an  eastern  apse.  It  is  only  when  one 
travels  from  church  to  church  finished  with  apsidal 
choirs,  that  the  eye  sees  the  whole  evil  of  the  square 
east  end  as  the  termination  of  the  vista  in  a  large  church. 
But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  is  less  completeness 
[176] 


and  unity  of  effect,  fewer  fine  effects  of  light  and  shade, 
and  altogether  less  skill  and  architectural  ingenuity  in 
the  English  plan  than  in  the  other:  and  though  I  should 
be  sorry  to  see  the  apse  commonly  introduced  in  small 
churches,  yet  I  think  it  fortunate  that  attention  has 
been  a  good  deal  drawn  to  this  matter  of  late  years, 
and  that  men  have  not  been  slow  to  recognize  the  ad- 
vantage of  importing  this  one  foreign  practice  at  any 
rate  into  our  own  country.  Both  externally  and  inter- 
nally the  east  end  of  Laon  is  deficient  in  effect,  and  gives 
the  impression  of  being  low  and  awkward  in  proportion. 
There  is  an  eastern  triplet  which  comes  down  very  near 
to  the  floor,  and  a  large  rose  window  over  it;  an  arcade 
of  open  arches,  flanked  on  either  side  by  a  pinnacle, 
conceals  the  lower  part  of  the  gable.  This  elevation  is 
indeed  the  worst  thing  in  the  whole  church,  and  contrasts 
unfavourably  with  that  of  the  north  transept.  This  is 
perhaps  a  little  later  in  date  and  owes  much  to  the 
irregularity  of  outline  caused  by  the  completion  of  one 
only  of  its  steeples.  It  has  the  peculiarity  of  two  double 
doors;  and  the  large  rose  window  composed  of  eight 
octofoiled  circles  surrounding  a  ninth,  is  of  rare  beauty. 
It  is  to  be  prized  the  more,  too,  because  in  the  fourteenth 
century  there  was  a  plan  for  its  removal,  of  which  we 
have  curious  evidence:  one  of  the  side  jambs  and  part 
of  the  arch  of  a  large  middle-pointed  window  having 
been  inserted  by  cutting  away  the  wall  close  to  a  but- 
tress in  such  a  way  as  to  disturb  very  little  of  the  orig- 
inal work,  and  yet  to  afford  us  a  very  curious  evidence 
of  the  way  in  which  alterations  of  this  kind  were  made 
by  the  mediaeval  masons,  without  the  introduction  of  a 
single  shore  or  support  of  any  kind.  Fortunately  the 
[177] 


alteration  was  stopped  just  where  it  ought  to  have  been, 
after  it  had  afforded  evidence  of  the  customs  of  the 
masons,  but  before  it  had  destroyed  a  perfect  first- 
pointed  facade;  and  I  suppose  that  by  this  time  we 
have  outlived  the  rage  for  middle-pointed  work  so  far 
that  it  would  be  difficult  indeed  to  find  any  one  so  wrong- 
headed  as  not  to  be  grateful  for  the  stoppage  of  the  al- 
teration at  the  point  at  which  we  see  it  now.  Of  the 
western  fagade  I  can  say  but  little.  It  has  been  my 
fortune  to  see  it  twice,  but  an  evil  fate  has  so  covered 
it  with  scaffolding  at  one  time,  and  taken  down  and 
rebuilt  so  much  at  another,  that  I  have  only  been  able 
to  guess  at  its  general  effect.  The  western  doorways 
are  adorned  with  sculpture,  and  this  is  almost  the  only 
place  in  the  church  in  which  figure  sculpture  still  re- 
mains; but  the  whole  exterior  of  the  church  is  remark- 
able for  the  fine  architectural  character  of  the  sculpture 
of  foliage,  which  is  used  with  special  lavishness  along 
almost  all  the  string  courses.  I  hardly  know  any  finer 
work  of  its  kind,  but  it  is  altogether  conventional  in  its 
treatment,  and  arranged  with  very  particular  reference 
to  architectural  effect,  the  foliage  in  each  bay  being 
very  nearly  identical  in  its  design.  A  peculiarity  in 
the  external  effect  of  the  church  is  the  lighting  of  the 
triforium  with  separate  windows,  so  that  we  have  three 
heights  of  windows  in  the  elevation  belonging  to  the 
aisle,  triforium,  and  clerestory. 

Of  the  various  steeples  which  adorn  the  church,  and 
whose  character  is  generally  very  similar,  the  most 
beautiful  is,  1  think,  that  of  the  south  transept.  The 
lower  stages  are  lighted  with  couplets  of  lancets,  and 
have  buttresses  at  their  angles;  above  the  roof  line 
[178] 


square  pinnacles  are  set  diagonally  at  the  angles,  and 
in  the  topmost  stage  the  tower  is  an  octagon  in  plan  with 
octagonal  angle  pinnacles  resting  on  the  square  pinnacles 
below,  and  lighted  by  lancet  windows  of  very  light  pro- 
portions. The  octagonal  pinnacles  are  composed  en- 
tirely of  shafts  supporting  arches,  and  are  of  two  stages 
in  height;  and  within  them  are  contrived  some  newel 
staircases  of  exquisite  design.  They  consist  of  a  series 
of  delicate  shafts  —  one  on  each  step,  supporting 
another  above:  the  capitals  of  these  shafts  are  all  well 
carved  and  with  great  variety:  the  effect  of  this  winding 
cluster  of  shafts,  seen  through  and  behind  the  shafts  of 
the  pinnacles,  is  a  great  lesson  in  the  beauty  of  shafts 
and  the  value  of  scientific  construction.  Much  of  the 
beauty  of  the  design  is  owing  to  the  very  light  and  airy 
character  of  these  angle  pinnacles,  and  it  is  much  to  be 
deplored  that  the  spires  shown  in  du  Sommerard's  view 
no  longer  exist. 

The  small  cloister  on  the  south  side  of  the  nave  is 
one  of  the  features  to  which  it  would  be  unpardonable 
not  to  refer.  It  forms  only  one  side  of  the  enclosure, 
the  east  and  west  ends  being  occupied  by  the  chapter 
room  and  a  groined  chapel  projecting  from  the  south 
wall  of  the  nave,  whilst  the  wall  of  the  aisle  forms 
the  north  side.  The  merit  of  this  cloister  is,  there- 
fore, not  its  extent,  but  the  beauty  of  its  design.  The 
windows  are  of  two  lights,  and  above  these  is  a  quatre- 
foil  opening  enclosed  within  a  circular  moulding,  round 
which  are  pierced  sixteen  small  circles.  The  tracery 
was  glazed,  though  the  lower  part  of  the  windows 
appears  to  have  been  always  open  as  it  is  at  present. 
The  whole  design  is  a  very  good  example  of  plate 
[179] 


tracery.  The  outer  wall  of  the  cloister  abuts  on  the 
street,  and  though  only  pierced  with  small  square  win- 
dows, is  yet  so  skilfully  buttressed  and  finished  with  a 
cornice  so  finely  sculptured,  as  to  be  a  very  successful 
architectural  feature.  At  the  angle  of  this  wall  near 
the  south  transept  doorway,  a  buttress  is  brought  out 
from  the  transept,  and  against  it  is  placed,  standing  on  a 
corbel  under  a  canopy,  a  grand  angel  which  now  holds  a 
sundial;  and  though  the  dial  is  not  old,  I  suppose,  to 
judge  by  the  position  of  the  hand,  that  it  takes  the 
place  of  one  coeval  with  the  fabric.  The  angle  of  this 
buttress,  coming  forward  rather  awkwardly  in  front  of 
the  door,  is  cut  back  in  a  very  skilful  manner,  and  has 
two  recessed  shafts  with  capitals  and  bases,  affording  a 
capital  example  of  angle  decoration. 

There  is  not  much  of  which  I  need  make  special 
mention  in  the  interior.  The  main  columns  are  gener- 
ally plain  cylinders,  with  very  large  capitals  from  which 
the  groining  shafts  rise;  these  are  banded  very  fre- 
quently in  their  height  with  bad  effect.  There  is  the 
fourfold  division  in  height  to  which  I  have  already  ad- 
verted, and  considerable  matter  of  study  in  the  sculp- 
ture of  the  capitals,  which  is  however  in  some  cases 
rather  too  rude  and  early  in  its  character. 

There  is  some  very  fine  early  glass  in  the  eastern 
windows  of  the  choir.  In  the  transept  there  are  two 
arches  across  next  the  wall,  supporting  a  floor  on  a  level 
with  and  connecting  the  triforia,  the  spaciousness  of 
which  is  quite  wonderful.  They  are  groined  throughout, 
and  the  views  of  the  church  obtained  from  them  are 
very  good.  I  found  some  middle-pointed  screens  divid- 
ing the  several  bays  of  the  triforium  in  the  nave,  and 
[180] 


there  was  a  good  deal  of  thirteenth  century  glass  lying  on 
boards,  and  about  to  undergo  restoration.  Considerable 
alterations  were  made  in  the  last  century  by  the  inser- 
tion of  chapels  between  the  buttresses  of  the  choir,  but 
these  do  not  detract  much  from  the  general  effect  of  the 
church,  which  exhibits  a  degree  of  general  uniformity 
hardly  to  be  paralleled  save  at  our  own  Salisbury. 

I  think  it  admits  of  a  fair  doubt  whether  such  a  cluster 
of  similar  great  steeples  at  regular  intervals  around  one 
building,  as  we  have  here,  could  ever  be  perfectly  sat- 
isfactory; but  of  the  beauty  of  their  design,  taken 
separately,  there  cannot  be  two  opinions.  It  is  possible 
that  if  the  central  lantern  had  been  carried  up  to  a  great 
height,  whatever  defect  there  is  might  have  been  recti- 
fied, but  there  is  no  sign  of  any  such  intention. 

To  the  east  and  north  of  the  cathedral  are  very  large 
remains  of  buildings  of  the  same  date  as  the  cathedral, 
and  fairly  perfect  in  their  external  effect.  Towards  the 
interior  they  all  rest  on  open  arcades,  whilst  on  the 
exterior  the  outline  is  well  and  picturesquely  broken  by 
a  series  of  turrets  projecting  from  the  walls  of  the  great 
hall  of  the  palace,  said  to  have  been  built  by  Bishop 
Gamier  in  a.d.  1242. 

The  bishop's  chapel,  a  groined  building  with  nave 
and  aisles,  and  of  two  stages  in  height,  still  remains.  It 
is  of  slightly  earlier  date  than  the  cathedral,  is  covered 
with  a  roof  of  one  span,  and  has  a  very  small  apse  at  the 
east  end. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  communication  directly 

from  the  bishop's   palace  to  the  eastern  part  of  the 

cathedral;  and  if  the  people  of  Laon  were  as  turbulent 

as  they  are  said  to  have  been,  the  bishops  were  wise  so 

[181] 


to  place  their  palace,  and  so  to  connect  it  with  the  cathe- 
dral as  to  enable  themselves  to  stand  a  siege  if  need  be. 

After  the  cathedral,  the  church  of  S.  Martin,  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  town,  is  the  principal  architectural 
relic  still  left  in  Laon.  Like  the  cathedral,  it  is  remark- 
able for  its  square  east  end.  It  is  cruciform  in  plan,  and 
consists  of  nave  and  aisles,  choir  without  aisles,  and 
transepts  with  chapels  on  the  east  side.  Two  towers 
are  placed  in  the  angles  between  the  transepts  and  nave. 
The  general  foundation  of  the  fabric  is  Romanesque 
work,  but  the  choir  and  transepts  are  of  a  rather  ornate 
early  first-pointed,  much  more  German  than  French 
in  its  character,  and  the  western  fagade  is  one  of  the 
best  examples  that  I  know  of  a  middle-pointed  front 
to  a  church  of  moderate  pretensions.  The  early- 
pointed  work  at  the  east  is  remarkable  for  the  very 
heavy  character  of  its  mouldings  and  string-courses, 
the  use  of  both  round  and  pointed  arches,  and  the  very 
ingenious  arrangement  of  the  chapels  in  the  east  wall 
of  the  transept,  and  of  the  buttresses  above  them. 
Three  chapels  are  formed  under  two  bays  of  vaulting, 
so  that  the  vaulting  shaft  and  buttress  come  over  the 
point  of  the  arch.  The  church  is  well  groined.  The 
steeples  are  poor  in  character  and  rather  insignificant, 
but  they  appear  never  to  have  been  completed,  and  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  cathedral  it  was  dangerous  to 
venture  upon  any  but  the  most  careful  and  noble  work. 

The  west  front  is  very  ornate,  and  is  marked  chiefly 
by  the  fine  octangular  pinnacles  at  the  angles  of  the 
clerestory  and  by  the  large  sculpture  of  S.  Martin  in  a 
quatrefoil  which  fills  the  gable.  The  three  western 
doorways  are  composed  of  a  succession  of  small  reedy 
[182] 


mouldings,  and  against  the  buttresses  beyond  the  cen- 
tral doorway  are  figures  of  saints  considerably  mutilated. 

Almost  the  only  other  interesting  church  is  a  small 
building  attached  now  to  an  educational  institution  for 
boys,  A  priest  told  me  it  had  belonged  to  the  Templars, 
and  at  any  rate  it  is  an  octagonal  building  with  a  small 
chancel  on  its  eastern  side,  and  a  smaller  circular  apse. 
At  the  west  end  there  is  a  small  porch.  The  whole  is  in 
a  late  Romanesque  style,  and  very  small,  the  external 
measurement  of  each  side  of  the  octagon  being  only 
about  eleven  feet. 

Here  and  there  are  to  be  seen  remains  of  houses  and 
gateways,  but  there  is  nothing  of  sufficient  interest  to 
require  a  special  note  here,  and  the  only  other  building 
I  need  mention  is  the  very  curious  church  at  Vaux-sous- 
Laon,  a  village  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  below  the  citadel 
and  cathedral.  This  has  a  western  porch  or  narthex, 
nave  and  aisles  of  five  bays,  transepts  and  low  central 
steeple,  and  a  choir  and  aisles  of  three  bays,  groined, 
and  both  loftier  and  wider  than  the  nave.  The  east 
end  is  square,  and  has  a  triplet  and  a  large  rose  window 
above,  very  similar  in  design  to  the  east  end  of  the 
cathedral.  The  columns  are  cylindrical,  with  simply 
carved  caps  of  bold  design.  The  choir  is  all  first- 
pointed,  the  nave  of  earlier  date  and  much  simpler 
character  and  not  groined. 

I  must  conclude  this  brief  notice  of  Laon  and  its 
buildings  with  just  mentioning  two  of  the  existing  build- 
ings in  the  neighbourhood  which  ought  to  be  seen  and 
examined.  These  are  the  magnificent  granary  of  the 
abbey  of  Vauclair  near  Laon,  and  the  still  more  inter- 
esting hospital  for  lepers  of  Tortoir:  both  of  these  are 
[183] 


figured  by  M.  Verdier  in  his  Architecture  Civile  et 
Domestique,  and  appear  to  be  of  rare  beauty  and 
interest. 

V 

The  cathedral  of  Rheims  is  most  unquestionably 
a  very  noble,  I  might  almost  say,  a  perfectly  noble, 
piece  of  architecture,  and  nevertheless  it  seems  to 
fail  in  producing  so  great  an  effect  on  the  mind  as 
many  other  French  churches  of  smaller  dimensions 
and  less  architectural  pretension.  The  truth  is,  that  it  is 
a  work  conceived  and  executed  at  two  periods  and  by 
two  (if  not  more)  architects;  and  though  the  ground- 
plan,  some  portion  of  the  walls,  and  a  little  of  the  sculp- 
ture, of  the  first  architect  have  been  preserved,  the  gen- 
eral aspect  of  the  church  at  the  present  day  savours 
more  of  the  later  artist  than  of  his  predecessor.  It  was 
in  the  year  1212  that  Robert  de  Coucy  (a  friend  of  Wilars 
de  Honecort)  commenced  the  erection  of  the  present 
cathedral,  and  it  was  after  his  death  and  from  circa  a.d. 
1250  to  circa  a.d.  1300  that  the  whole  of  the  upper  portion 
of  the  building,  the  western  portion  of  the  nave  from  the 
ground,  and  the  elaborate  western  fagade  were  in  course 
of  erection.  There  remains  to  us,  therefore,  little  of 
genuine  first-pointed  work,  for  it  has  been  clearly  shown 
by  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  that  the  lower  stage  only  of  the 
building  was  the  work  of  Robert  de  Coucy.  He  seems 
indeed  to  have  contemplated  a  building  of  greater  height 
and  grandeur  than  the  present,  since  his  work  is  remark- 
able for  the  great  size  of  the  buttresses  and  the  thick- 
ness of  the  walls,  which  were  diminished  at  once,  and 
abruptly,  by  the  architect  who  followed  him,  and  whose 

[184] 


work  is  nevertheless  amply  solid  and  massive  for  the 
existing  edifice. 

It  will  be  seen  from  what  I  have  said,  that  we  must 
not  go  to  Rheims  expecting  to  see  a  work  of  the  best 
period  of  the  thirteenth  century.  We  shall  find  a  small 
portion  of  sculpture  in  one  of  the  doors  of  the  north 
transept,  and  the  plan  and  basement  story  of  the  build- 
ing throughout,  of  this  early  date,  but  the  bulk  of  the 
structure  and  almost  the  whole  of  the  decorative  fea- 
tures are  purely  middle-pointed  work  of  the  end  of  the 
thirteenth  and  early  part  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
There  is  exquisite  grace  about  most  of  this  work,  but 
an  entire  lack  of  that  stern  character  which  makes  Char- 
tres  the  grandest  of  French  churches;  there  is  prettiness 
where  there  should  have  been  majesty;  and  in  parts  a 
nervous  dread  of  leaving  a  single  foot  of  wall  free  from 
ornament,  which  reminds  one  much  more  of  the  work  of 
an  architect  of  the  nineteenth  century  than  of  one  of 
the  thirteenth.  The  west  front,  on  which  all  the  greatest 
efforts  of  the  later  architects  of  the  church  were  lavished, 
can  thoroughly  please  none  but  those  who  see  in  elab- 
orate enrichment  of  every  inch  of  wall  the  evidence  of 
art,  whilst  I  need  hardly  say  that  to  those  who  have 
studied  the  best  examples  of  architecture  in  whatever 
style,  such  elaborate  ornamentation  is  in  itself  an  evi- 
dence of  weakness.  There  is  a  kind  of  sacredness  about 
the  simple  breadth  of  wall  and  buttress  which  must  be 
reverenced  by  all  who  would  produce  really  grand  work. 
But  for  this  the  later  architects  of  Rheims  had  not  the 
slightest  feeling,  and  their  work  seems  therefore  to  me 
to  be  more  really  allied  to  the  debased  art  which  fol- 
lowed it,  than  to  the  pure  early  work  which  had  imme- 
[185] 


diately  preceded  it.  As  at  Laon,  so  here,  the  original 
design  was  to  have  a  grand  group  of  towers  and  spires, 
six  for  the  three  grand  fagades,  and  a  seventh  over  the 
crossing.  Some  of  these  spires  were,  I  believe,  actually 
erected,  and  in  lead;  and  whether  this  was  the  first 
intention  or  not  it  is  certain  that  the  plumber's  work 
was  in  great  request  in  this  church  and  city,  as  there 
still  remains  a  very  fine  fleche  on  the  point  of  the  apse 
roof  of  the  cathedral,  some  good  detail  of  lead  work  on 
the  roofs,  and  a  much  modernized  leaded  steeple  in  the 
church  of  S.  Jacques;  whilst  in  the  west  front  of  the 
cathedral  we  see  large  gurgoyles  of  lead  simulating 
enormous  animals.  The  interior  of  the  cathedral  is 
very  noble  in  its  proportions  (though  the  triforium 
might  well  have  been  more  dignified),  and  is  remarkable 
for  the  immense  size  of  the  capitals  of  the  piers  in  the 
nave;  they  are  very  closely  copied  from  natural  foliage, 
and  fail  to  satisfy  me  that  such  work  is  the  best  fitted 
for  architectural  enrichment.  The  decoration  of  the 
west  end  is  not  confined  to  the  exterior,  the  whole  inside 
face  of  the  wall  being  divided  into  panels  and  niches 
filled  with  foliage  and  single  figures.  The  stone  imita- 
tion of  hangings  in  the  lower  part  of  this  wall  ought  to 
be  recorded,  though  hardly  without  a  protest. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  cathedral  is  the  archbishop's 
palace  which  still  retains  its  thirteenth  century  chapel 
of  two  stages  in  height,  and  good,  though  simple,  char- 
acter. It  is  a  parallelogram  of  five  bays  in  length  with 
an  apse  of  seven  sides. 

And  now  that  I  have  ventured  to  say  so  much  in  the 
way  of  criticism  upon  what  I  believe  most  Frenchmen 
consider  their  most  glorious  church,  and  without  any 
[  186  ] 


attempt  at  a  detailed  account  either  of  its  general  archi- 
tectural arrangements  or  its  sculptures  (the  latter  ex- 
ceedingly rich  and  suggestive),  I  must  take  my  reader 
with  me  along  the  dreary  dirty  road  which  leads  to  the 
squalid  quarter  of  the  city  in  which  still  stands  as  a 
rival  to  the  more  modern  cathedral  the  enormous  church 
of  S.  Remi.  The  exterior,  with  the  exception  of  the  apse, 
has  been  much  modernized,  and  presents  accordingly 
but  few  features  of  much  interest.  The  south  transept 
has  been  all  remodelled  in  flamboyant,  whilst  the  nave 
is  simple  Romanesque,  and  the  west  end  —  recently 
almost  entirely  rebuilt  —  is  a  singular  agglomeration  of 
anomalous  work,  half  classic  or  Pagan,  and  half  Roman- 
esque or  Gothic  and  Christian.  In  the  apse  we  have 
flying  buttresses  supported  on  fluted  shafts,  a  clerestory 
of  triple  lancets,  and  a  triforium  also  lighted  with  three- 
light  windows.  The  proportions  of  the  buttresses,  roofs, 
and  walls  are  however  heavy  and  unskilful,  and  give 
evidence  of  the  early  date  of  this  nevertheless  very 
grand  attempt.  It  is  on  entering  by  the  transept, 
through  a  doorway  covered  with  fine  flamboyant  sculp- 
ture, that  we  see  how  grand  the  attempt  was,  and  how 
fine  the  internal  effect.  I  think  I  know  no  church  whose 
whole  interior  gives  a  greater  idea  of  spaciousness  and 
size,  whilst  the  beauty  of  the  design  of  the  apse  and  the 
aisle  and  chapels  round  it  is  extreme.  And  indeed  the 
appearance  of  size  does  not  belie  the  facts,  for  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  building  are  singularly  fine.  It  has  a  Roman- 
esque nave  and  aisles  (groined  with  a  pointed  vault)  of 
thirteen  bays,  transepts,  and  a  choir  of  three  bays  with 
an  apse  of  five.  Round  the  apse  is  the  procession-path 
aisle,  and  opening  into  this  a  series  of  chapels,  whereof 
[187] 


the  five  eastern  are  very  noticeable.  The  Lady-chapel 
is  of  three  bays  in  length,  with  an  apse  of  seven  bays, 
whilst  the  other  four  are  very  nearly  circular  in  plan, 
and  each  of  the  chapels  opens  into  the  aisle  with  three 
arches  supported  on  delicate  detached  shafts.  The 
groining  of  each  of  the  four  smaller  chapels  forms  a 
complete  circle  in  plan,  with  eight  groining  ribs,  whereof 
two  are  supported  on  the  columns  opening  into  the  aisle. 
Each  chapel  is  lighted  by  three  windows,  recessed  so 
much  as  to  allow  of  openings  being  pierced  in  the  groining 
piers  to  admit  of  a  passage  all  round  the  interior. 
This  arrangement  (as  well  as  the  beautiful  planning  of 
the  chapels)  is  a  distinct  feature  of  the  churches  of 
Champagne.  The  chapels  of  Notre  Dame,  Chalons-sur- 
Marne,  are  similarly  planned,  and  in  those  of  the  cathe- 
dral at  Rheims  it  is  clear  that  Robert  de  Coucy  had  the 
same  plan  in  his  eye,  though  he  gave  up  the  triple-arched 
entrance  from  the  aisle;  whilst  at  S.  Quentin  we  see  an 
almost  similar  plan  at  a  rather  later  date.  The  whole  of 
the  nave  retains  the  original  very  simple  Romanesque 
arcades,  and  lofty  groined  triforia;  but  its  groining 
throughout  is  fine  early-pointed  work  and  of  grand 
dimensions,  the  width  in  clear  of  the  vault  being  about 
forty-five  feet.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  in  this  nave  the 
triforium  compartment  is  absolutely  more  lofty  than 
that  below  it  which  contains  the  arch  opening  into  the 
aisle.  In  the  choir  there  is  a  sort  of  fourfold  division  in 
height  such  as  I  have  described  at  Soissons  and  Laon,  an 
arcade  of  pointed  arches  being  introduced  between  the 
clerestory  and  the  triforium;  but  as  this  arcade  is  in 
part  a  continuation  of  the  lines  of  the  clerestory  windows, 
and  as  there  is  no  string-course  to  divide  the  stage  in 
[188] 


two,  the  effect  is  better  than  in  other  examples  of  the 
same  arrangement. 

There  is  much  matter  for  careful  study  in  the  interior; 
among  other  things  may  be  noticed  the  remarkably  fine 
and  large  corbels  supporting  the  groining  shafts  in  the 
eastern  part  of  the  nave,  adorned  with  figures  of  the 
prophets  bearing  scrolls  and  still  retaining  traces  of 
their  old  colouring;  and  again,  the  very  beautiful  sculp- 
ture of  some  of  the  early  capitals  near  the  western  end 
of  the  nave,  and  on  either  side  of  the  great  western 
doorway.  In  the  windows  of  the  apse  are  some  small 
remains  of  fine  early  glass. 

Among  the  other  architectural  remains  in  Rheims  is 
the  church  of  S.  Maurice,  consisting  of  a  Romanesque 
nave  and  aisles,  and  a  lofty  groined  flamboyant  choir, 
the  west  front  of  good  character,  having  small  buttresses 
supported  on  shafts  on  each  side  of  the  central  door, 
and  separating  the  western  triplet  of  broad  lancets 
above  the  doorway.  The  rest  of  the  church  is  very 
uninteresting. 

There  is  also  the  church  of  S.  Jacques,  whose  west 
front  has  the  unusual  feature  of  a  sham  gable  on  either 
side  of  the  real  central  gable.^  These  gables  are  above 
the  aisles,  and  completely  conceal  their  roofs  and  the 
clerestory.  The  nave  is  of  early-pointed  date,  but  very 
much  altered;  only  the  two  eastern  bays  appearing  to 
retain  the  original  triforium  and  clerestory, —  the  latter  a 
lancet  with  internal  jamb-shafts,  which  are  continued 
into  the  triforium  and  form  a  portion  of  the  arcades  of 
four  pointed  arches  which  occupy  each  bay, — an  arrange- 

»  The  arrangement  of  these  gables  recalls  to  mind  the  very  similar 
arrangement  at  Salisbury  and  Lincoln. 

[189] 


roent  very  similar  to  that  of  the  clerestory  of  S.  Rem!. 
These  two  bays  are  groined  with  a  sexpartite  vault, 
which  is  slightly  domical  in  its  longitudinal  section.  The 
alternate  piers  in  the  nave  consist  of  coupled  columns 
of  very  solid  character,  and  with  very  deep  capitals. 
Some  of  these  columns  are  regularly  fluted.  The  rest  of 
the  nave  has  been  much  altered  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, whilst  the  choir  is  flamboyant,  with  aisles  of 
Renaissance  style,  but  groined  in  stone.  The  crossing 
is  surmounted  by  a  very  large  fleche  of  timber  covered 
with  lead,  almost  completely  modernized,  but  showing 
still  some  large  three-light  windows  of  middle-pointed 
style. 

The  Maison  des  Musiciens,  in  the  Rue  de  Tambour,  is 
a  well-known  example  of  excessively  good  domestic 
architecture  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

From  Rheims  I  made  my  way  by  railway  to  Chalons- 
sur-Marne,  where  I  was  rewarded  by  the  sight  of  one 
of  the  most  interesting  churches  I  have  ever  seen,  that 
of  Notre  Dame,  and  of  a  cathedral  of  inferior  interest. 
It  was  the  more  gratifying  to  find  such  really  fine  work 
just  on  the  extreme  borders  of  the  country  to  which 
French  influence  extended,  and  beyond  which  to  the 
eastward  the  churches  appear  to  be  entirely  German  in 
their  style. 

The  points  of  resemblance  between  Notre  Dame  de 
Chalons  and  the  church  of  S.  Remi  at  Rheims  are  too 
obvious  to  be  overlooked.  The  planning  and  the  gen- 
eral design  and  detail  of  their  chevets  are  precisely 
similar,  though  the  scale  of  Notre  Dame  is  considerably 
smaller  than  that  of  S.  Remi.  The  former  church  has 
however  the  great  advantage  of  being  of  the  same  char- 
[  190  ] 


acter  throughout,  wonderfully  little  damaged  by  tim*, 
and  singularly  fortunate  among  French  churches  in  being 
under  the  care  of  a  priQst,  M.  Champenois,  whose  zeal 
and  enthusiasm  for  his  beautiful  church  is  equalled  by 
the  care  and  skill  with  which  he  has  himself  carried  out 
its  restoration.  It  is  the  most  conservative  restoration 
I  have  as  yet  seen  in  France;  it  could  not  be  more  con- 
servative, and  hence  it  is  impossible  that  it  could  be 
better.  M.  Champenois  feels  that  every  stone  is  a 
deposit  entrusted  to  him,  and  I  would  that  we  saw  signs 
of  such  zeal  as  his  rather  oftener  in  the  French  clergy. 
Unfortunately,  it  seems  to  be  too  generally  the  case 
that  they  take  no  interest  whatever  in  the  churches 
which  they  serve.  They  have  been  taught  to  look  to 
the  government  as  the  owner  and  restorer  of  all  religious 
buildings,  and  they  have  ceased  to  concern  themselves 
about  either  the  security  of  their  fabrics  or  the  character 
of  their  fittings  and  decorations.  Fortunate  indeed  is  it 
for  us  in  England  that  the  State  is  not  so  careful  for  us 
as  it  is  in  France,  for  then  we  should  see  here,  just  as 
we  do  there,  a  people  utterly  careless  of  the  noble  build- 
ings which  surround  them,  in  place  of  —  as  we  do  here 
—  a  people  whose  love  for  their  old  monuments  is  en- 
hanced and  in  part  created  by  the  fact  that  they  are 
themselves  perpetually  invited  to  help  in  their  restora- 
tion and  repair. 

The  church  of  Notre  Dame  consists  of  a  nave  and 
aisle  of  seven  bays  in  length,  transepts,  and  a  very  short 
apsidal  choir  (an  apse  of  seven  sides),  with  an  aisle  and 
chapels  planned  like  those  of  S.  Remi,  beyond  it.  There 
are  four  towers,  two  at  the  west  ends  of  the  aisles,  and 
two  in  the  angles  between  the  transepts  and  the  choir. 
C  191  ] 


Tlje  triforium  throughout  is  large,  lofty,  and  groined. 
As  at  S.  Remi,  the  external  effect  of  this  church  is  much 
inferior  to  the  internal  effect.  It  is  rather  too  heavy  and 
ungainly,  and  savours  much  of  the  character  of  German 
Romanesque  work.  The  four  towers  have  the  defect 
of  being  almost  exactly  alike,  of  four  stages,  richly  adorned 
with  round-arched  arcades,  and  rising  hardly  at  all  above 
the  level  of  the  ridges  of  the  roof.  The  south-west  tower 
retains  its  fine  leaded  spire,  with  four  tall  pinnacles  at 
its  base,  and  a  cluster  of  eight  spire-lights  about  midway: 
it  is  an  exquisite  example  of  lead-work,  and  still  more 
precious  to  us  as  affording  evidence  of  the  extraordinary 
extent  to  which  decoration  was  sometimes  carried  in 
the  Middle  Ages.  The  pinnacles  at  the  base  still  retain 
distinct  traces  of  decoration  on  the  lead,  each  side  hav- 
ing a  large  crocketed  canopy,  below  which  is  a  gigantic 
figure,  in  one  case  of  an  archer  with  a  bow.  The  whole 
is  done  in  white  and  black  only,  the  ground  being  the 
dark  lead  on  which  the  white  lines  seem  to  have  been 
marked  by  a  process  of  tinning  or  soldering.  It  is  a 
kind  of  decoration  which  we  may  well  attempt  to  revive. 
A  spire  very  similar  to  the  other  has  recently  been 
erected  on  the  north-west  tower,  and  the  western  front 
is  now  therefore  quite  in  its  old  state,  and  singularly  well 
does  it  look.  I  almost  doubt  whether  the  addition  of 
similar  spires  to  the  two  eastern  towers,  for  which  the 
Cure  is  now  collecting  funds,  will  really  improve  the 
look  of  the  church.  With  four  steeples,  it  is  well  that 
two  at  least  should  be  pre-eminent,  which  is  the  present 
state  of  the  case;  whilst  the  completion  of  the  others 
would  reduce  all  to  the  character  of  mere  turrets  —  a 
result  not  to  be  desired.  The  variety  of  string-courses 
[192] 


and  cornices  throughout  the  exterior  of  this  church, 
all  filled  with  sculpture  of  foliage,  gives  a  very  ornate 
character  to  the  external  detail. 

The  principal  entrance  is  by  the  south  door  of  the 
nave.  This  has  been  cruelly  damaged,  indeed  nearly 
destroyed,  but  what  remains  is  of  great  interest,  owing 
to  its  very  close  resemblance  to  the  noble  western  door- 
ways of  Rouen  cathedral ;  the  doorway  is  double,  with 
eight  shafts  in  each  jamb,  the  alternate  shafts  having 
figures  in  front  of  them,  as  in  the  west  doorways  of 
Chartres;  whilst  the  tympanum  is  similar  also,  having  a 
figure  of  our  Lord,  surrounded  by  the  emblems  of  the  four 
Evangelists.  Portions  of  archivolt  enrichments  and  other 
sculpture  have  been  dug  up  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this 
doorway  and  carefully  preserved,  and  they  appear  to 
me,  by  their  vigour  and  grandeur  of  character,  to  be 
undoubtedly  the  work  of  the  same  artist,  and  possibly 
portions  of  this  once  magnificent  but  now  woefully 
mutilated  entrance. 

It  is  in  the  interior,  however,  of  this  church  that  the 
effect  is  finest  and  the  architecture  most  noble.  The 
whole  is  very  uniform  in  character  throughout,  marked 
by  great  solidity  of  construction  and  proportion,  and  by 
the  boldness  and  distinctness  of  all  its  architectural  de- 
tail. The  triforium  throughout  opens  with  two  arches 
enclosed  within  another,  the  spandrels  being  unpierced, 
and  throughout  the  church  it  is  groined;  nor  must  I 
forget  to  say,  that  at  the  present  day  the  spacious  area 
it  affords  is  turned  to  some  account;  for,  when  I  was 
there,  on  one  side  they  were  making  the  organ  pipes,  on 
the  other  constructing  the  organ,  and  in  another  part 
the  carpenters  were  busy  upon  the  organ  case;  and  the 

[193] 


Cure  assured  me  that  he  not  only  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  everything  executed  in  the  best  possible  way,  but 
at  the  same  time  there  was  no  inconvenience,  and  no 
want  of  reverence,  on  the  part  of  the  workmen.  The 
clerestory  consists  throughout  of  lancet  windows,  the 
lower  portions  of  which  are  filled  in  with  an  arcade  in 
the  manner  I  have  described  in  the  choir  of  S.  Remi, 
at  Rheims.  The  sculpture  throughout  this  church, 
though  almost  entirely  confined  to  foliage,  is  very  in- 
structive, and  at  the  same  time  a  little  puzzling;  for 
we  see  almost  side  by  side  work  of  the  best  Byzantine 
character  —  almost  rivalling  the  sculpture  we  see  in 
Venice  —  and  distinctly  thirteenth  century  French  work, 
whilst  the  building  itself  shows  no  corresponding  diver- 
sity, and  I  can  only  suppose,  either  that  the  sculpture 
was  in  hand  much  longer  than  the  building  of  the  church, 
or  that  two  sets  of  sculptors  were  at  work,  the  one  edu- 
cated in  a  Byzantine  school,  the  other  influenced  by  the 
more  developed  school  of  the  lie  de  France. 

I  have  said  enough,  I  trust,  to  induce  others  to  ex- 
amine carefully  this  very  interesting  church;  it  is  val- 
uable as  being  a  little  in  advance  of  the  most  perfect 
period  of  the  French  pointed  style,  and  as  being  much 
more  instructive,  therefore,  than  a  building  which,  like 
the  cathedral  at  Rheims,  is  in  the  main  a  little  after  the 
most  perfect  period,  and  full,  therefore,  of  symptoms  of 
decline,  instead  of  promise  of  advance. 

From  Notre  Dame  to  the  cathedral  it  is  a  descent 
from  the  finest  early  first-pointed  to  commonplace 
middle-pointed,  full  of  German  character  in  its  detail. 
The  west  front  and  the  whole  of  the  apse  have  been 
much  modernized,  and  the  finest  remaining  portion  of 
[194] 


the  exterior  is  the  north  transept  front.  The  windows 
are  geometrical  middle-pointed  of  four  lights,  and  the 
flying  buttresses  on  a  large  scale,  double,  and  sur- 
mounted by  pinnacles.  There  is  some  good  stained 
glass  of  late  date  in  some  of  the  aisle  windows. 

Another  church,  dedicated,  I  think,  to  S.  Alpin,  has  a 
nave  and  aisles  of  six  bays  groined,  without  a  triforium, 
and  of  the  same  date  as  Notre  Dame.  There  are  tran- 
septs and  a  central  tower,  and  a  choir  in  flamboyant 
style,  and  of  a  most  unusual  plan;  the  two  arches  east 
of  the  tower  diverge  from  each  other,  so  that  the  width 
of  the  choir  gradually  increases  up  to  the  point  at  which 
it  is  finished  with  an  apse  of  three  sides.  An  aisle  sur- 
rounds the  whole,  the  windows  of  which  retain  some 
very  rich  stained  glass.  This  choir  is  the  most  remark- 
able example  that  I  have  met  with  of  a  very  late  revival 
of,  perhaps,  the  earliest  type  of  chevet.  There  are  a 
great  many  altars  in  this  church,  pews  throughout  with 
doors,  and  no  sign  whatever  of  any  improvement.  In 
Notre  Dame,  where  pews  had  disappeared  and  every- 
thing was  being  restored,  all  the  side  altars  had  dis- 
appeared, and  there  was  only  one  altar  left  besides  the 
principal  altar  in  the  choir. 

And  here  I  might  well  conclude  these  notes  of  French 
architecture.  From  Chalons  I  went  to  Toul,  and  thence 
by  Metz  to  Treves,  and  I  found,  as  might  be  expected, 
nothing  but  German  work.  At  Toul  there  are  two 
churches,  the  cathedral  and  S.  Gengoult,  both  of  some 
interest,  and  with  good  cloisters;  but  it  is  very  remark- 
able how  we  find  here,  not  only  German  detail,  but  the 
favourite  German  ground-plans  also;  S.  Gengoult  is  a 
cruciform  church,  with  an  apsidal  chancel,  and  a  small 
[195] 


apsidal  chapel  on  each  side  opening  into  the  transepts; 
whilst  the  cathedral  has  an  apsidal  choir  without  aisles, 
and  a  square-ended  chapel  on  each  side  opening  from  the 
transepts.  The  window  tracery  in  S.  Gengoult  is  per- 
haps the  ugliest  ever  devised  even  by  German  ingenuity, 
and  yet  of  early  geometrical  character  (circa  a.d.  1300), 
and  still  retaining  much  very  beautiful  glass  of  the  same 
date.  The  nave  of  the  cathedral  has  been  recently  seated 
with  very  smart  fixed  open  seats,  of  the  kind  which 
might  have  been  erected  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago  in 
England. 

Of  Metz  I  can  say  but  little  more  than  of  Toul.  The 
cathedral  is  undoubtedly  magnificent  in  its  scale  and 
general  proportions;  but  its  detail  throughout  is  mis- 
erably thin  and  meagre,  and  the  church  appears  to  me 
to  be  utterly  undeserving  of  the  praise  I  have  heard 
bestowed  on  it  by  some  English  authorities.  Of  course, 
however,  the  degree  of  admiration  felt  for  such  a  build- 
ing depends  very  much  upon  the  standard  of  perfec- 
tion which  each  man  sets  up  for  himself.  If  he  comes  to 
Metz  strongly  possessed  with  a  sense  of  the  noble  char- 
acter of  German  Gothic,  of  course  he  will  admire  this 
extremely  German  edifice;  if,  however,  he  have  the 
slightest  feeling  for  early  French  art,  I  imagine  that  he 
will  turn  away  with  disappointment  and  sorrow  from 
this  church,  so  vast,  and  yet,  as  compared  with  fine 
French  churches,  so  tame,  poor,  and  weak. 

The  best  of  the  other  churches  in  Metz  is  that  of  S. 
Vincent,  a  work  of  better  style  than  the  cathedral,  and 
with  a  well-planned  German  east  end,  showing  undoubt- 
edly marks  of  the  same  hand  as  (or  at  least  of  imitation 
of)  the  famous  Liebfraukirche  at  Treves. 

[196] 


V\- 


v/ 


4- 


NAVE  AND  TRANSEPT,  THE  NEW  CATHEDRAL,  SALAMANCA 


( 


From  Metz  I  made  my  way  by  Sierck  (whose  small 
church  has  a  groined  roof  forty  feet  in  clear  width)  to 
Saarburg;  here  the  church  is  noticeable  for  a  tower 
oblong  in  plan,  and  roofed  with  two  thin  octagonal 
spires  which  unite  together  at  the  base;  and  from  Saar- 
burg I  went  to  Treves. 

Treves  well  deserves  a  long  notice.  Its  churches  are 
full  of  interest,  the  cathedral  for  students  of  early  art, 
and  the  Liebfraukirche,  as  being  (I  think)  the  most 
beautifully  planned  thirteenth  century  church  in  Ger- 
many. The  close  juxtaposition  of  these  two  churches  is 
singularly  effective  in  all  points  of  view.  Then  there 
are  the  very  fine  Roman  remains,  and  finally  a  really 
enormous  number  of  houses  of  the  thirteenth  and  four- 
teenth century,  all  in  very  fair  preservation.  From 
Treves,  by  the  interesting  abbey  of  Laach,  I  reached 
Cologne,  and  at  once  made  my  way  to  the  cathedral, 
anxious  to  see  whether  the  opinions  which  have  grown  on 
me  more  strongly  the  more  often  I  have  visited  it  would 
remain  unshaken  now  that  so  great  progress  has  been 
made  in  the  new  work.  It  is  impossible  to  overrate  the 
excellence  of  all  the  new  constructions;  nor  are  they 
obviously  open  to  any  hostile  criticism  in  regard  to  their 
conformity  with  the  general  character  of  the  old  work; 
but  it  is  at  the  same  time  useless  to  conceal  the  fact, 
that  the  work  is  of  a  poor  kind,  and  that  it  certainly 
does  not  improve  as  one  sees  more  of  it.  The  only  com- 
fort is  that  the  interior  will  be  much  finer  than  the  ex- 
terior, and  that  it  is  worth  while  therefore,  to  put  up 
with  some  shortcomings  in  the  latter  in  order  to  obtain 
what  will,  no  doubt,  be  the  sumptuous  effect  of  space, 
height,  and  (I  hope)  colour,  which  the  former  promises 
[197] 


to  afford.  It  is  much  more  difficult  to  spoil  the  interior 
than  the  exterior;  it  must  of  necessity  be  simple  and 
uniform,  and  it  admits  of  less  attempt  at  enrichment 
with  such  crockets  and  pinnacles  as  cover  the  exterior. 
The  south  transept  front,  which  is  the  most  conspicuous 
portion  of  the  new  work  finished,  is,  I  think,  thoroughly 
unsatisfactory.  The  crocketed  gable  over  the  great 
window,  repeated  again  just  above  up  the  roof  gable, 
is  perhaps  the  most  unhappy  repetition  of  a  leading 
line  that  could  have  been  hit  upon.  If  a  gable  was  nec- 
essary over  the  window,  it  should  have  been  different 
in  its  pitch  from  the  other;  and  then  again,  however 
much  the  old  architect  indulged  in  reedy  mouldings 
and  endless  groups  of  crockets,  it  does  seem  to  be  a  sad 
thing  that  a  nineteenth  century  artist  should  feel  bound 
to  emulate  his  enthusiasm  for  such  worthless  things.  I 
grant  at  once,  that  he  has  done  no  more  than  follow 
precedents.  In  the  old  west  front  of  the  cathedral,  there 
is.  scarcely  a  moulding  three  inches  in  diameter,  whilst 
the  central  doorway  between  the  steeples  is  very  small, 
and  made  up  of  a  repetition  usque  ad  nauseam  of  orders 
of  reedy  mouldings  and  small  flowers,  and  admits  not 
for  one  instant  of  comparison  with  any  good  examples  of 
French  doorways;  and,  it  is  indeed  very  striking  how, 
as  one  comes  fresh  from  French  churches,  all  this  work 
looks  thin,  petty,  and  wanting  in  expression. 

In  the  sculpture  of  foliage  in  the  new  works,  the  sys- 
tem seems  to  be  to  take  sprigs  of  two  or  three  leaves  and 
fasten  them  against  a  circular  bell,  with  no  evidence  of 
any  kind  of  natural  growth,  and  no  proper  architectural 
function  to  perform.  They  seem  to  require  a  piece  of 
string  or  a  strap  round  them  to  attach  them  to  the  bell. 
[198] 


The  copying  of  the  foliage  is  perfectly  naturalesque, 
even  to  the  marking  of  the  fibres  on  leaves  which  are  to 
be  elevated  to  a  great  height  in  the  building.  I  have 
heard  all  this  sculpture  so  often  referred  to  in  terms  of 
the  highest  praise,  that  unpleasant  as  it  is  to  criticize 
work  executed  at  the  present  day,  I  feel  that  I  am  bound 
to  express  my  dissent  from  those  who  so  speak  of  it. 
The  whole  work  is  so  famous  that  all  the  world  is  inter- 
ested in  it.  English  tourists,  year  after  year,  going  in 
great  numbers  on  their  travels,  admire  thoughtlessly 
everything  that  they  see,  and  architects  even  seem  to 
me  to  follow  in  their  wake,  forgetting  that  our  true 
function  is  not  simply  to  admire  the  work,  because  it  is 
a  vast  and  noble  enterprise,  but  to  weigh  and  compare 
it  with  the  most  perfect  work  we  can  find,  and  to  en- 
deavour, if  the  faults  we  see  in  it  are  great,  to  point 
them  out  by  way  of  warning  for  ourselves  and  others. 
Indiscriminate  admiration  of  such  a  building  does  enor- 
mous mischief,  just  as  a  wild  enthusiasm  for  the  four- 
teenth century  work  which  we  see  throughout  Germany 
would  be  fatal  to  the  eye  and  taste  of  the  enthusiast. 

Undoubtedly  the  architect  of  Cologne  has  had  an 
office  of  enormous  difficulty.  The  national  enthusiasm, 
which  has  raised  the  funds  hitherto  expended,  must 
have  needed  very  cautious  treatment.  It  would  prob- 
ably indeed  be  indispensable  that  the  steeples,  if  ever 
completed,  should  be  built  exactly  on  the  old  plan  so 
curiously  preserved  and  discovered,  but  the  elevation 
of  the  transepts,  on  which  so  very  much  of  the  externa! 
effect  of  the  whole  church  depended,  was  just  one  of 
those  points  on  which  the  architect  might  have  ven- 
tured (one  would  have  thought)  to  step  out  of  the  old 
[  199  ] 


path  a  little,  and  —  just  as  the  old  architect  when  he 
wanted  a  perfect  ground-plan  went  to  Amiens  for  his 
example — he  might  at  this  day  have  gone  to  Chartres 
or  Amiens,  Rouen  or  Paris,  and  grafted  something  of 
their  grace  and  grandeur  on  the  otherwise  merely  Ger- 
man conception  of  fa^de  which  he  has  given  us.  That 
this  might  have  been  done  without  detriment  to  the  old 
portions  of  the  building  is  I  am  sure  unquestionable; 
and  that  if  well  done  it  must  have  resulted  in  great  gain 
and  increased  beauty  is  equally  certain.  If  (as  we  all, 
with  insignificant  exceptions,  admit)  it  is  well  for  us  to 
study  early  French  art  as  well  as  English,  surely  some 
attention  to  it  must  be  even  more  necessary  in  Ger- 
many, whose  national  art  was  inferior,  in  the  thirteenth 
and  fourteenth  century,  not  only  to  that  of  France,  but 
almost  as  much  to  that  of  England. 


[200] 


SOME  CHURCHES  OF  LE   PUY   EN  VELAY 

AND  AUVERGNE 

(From  the  Transactions  of  the  R.  I.  B.  A.  1889) 

IN  the  course  of  last  autumn,^  after  having  spent 
three  weeks  in  climbing  Swiss  mountains,  I  was 
able  to  devote  a  few  days,  on  my  way  home,  to  a 
district  which,  as  far  as  I  had  been  able  to  gather  from 
books,  appeared  to  contain  a  mine  of  interest  for  the 
architect,  not  less  than  for  the  geologist  and  the  lover 
of  natural  scenery.  From  Lyon  I  went  by  Monistrol  to 
Le  Puy,  which  was  the  grand  object  of  my  tour;  thence 
by  Brioude  into  Auvergne,  and  through  Issoire,  Cler- 
mont-Ferrand and  Nevers,  to  Bourges  and  Paris.  I  was 
so  much  struck  by  what  I  saw,  that,  though  I  am  well 
aware  that  my  visit  was  too  hurried  to  be  at  all  exhaus- 
tive, I  think  I  cannot  do  better  than  give  you  the  results 
of  my  journey,  in  the  trust  that  what  was  full  of  interest, 
novelty,  and  instruction  for  myself,  may  be  of  some  use 
also  to  others  who  have  not  been  able  to  make  this 
journey  for  themselves.  The  complete-Gothic  archi- 
tecture of  Velay  and  Auvergne  is  not,  it  is  true,  to  be 
compared  to  the  best  work  in  the  north  of  France.  I  am 
not,  however,  going  to  tell  you  about  it,  but  about  an 

^  The  autumn  of  1860.  The  original  paper,  which  has  under- 
gone considerable  revision  since  it  was  read  on  7th  January,  1861, 
will  be  found  in  the  First  Series  of  Transactions,  1860-61,  pp. 
97-119.  -A.  E.  S. 

[201] 


earlier  style,  which,  as  I  hope  to  show,  has  special  value 
as  illustrating,  among  other  things,  the  way  in  which 
French  Gothic  was  developed  from  Romanesque  and 
Byzantine  buildings;  and  our  attention  will,  therefore, 
be  almost  entirely  devoted  to  buildings  which  are  either 
Romanesque  or  Romano- Byzantine  in  their  character, 
or  belonging  to  the  period  of  transition  from  those  styles 
to  first-pointed.  The  complete-Gothic  buildings  are 
comparatively  few,  and  have  no  special  value;  and  I 
shall,  probably,  not  have  time  now  to  refer  to  them 
even  in  the  most  cursory  manner. 

I  will  begin  with  Le  Puy,  the  ancient  capital  of  Velay. 
The  city  is  crowded  up  the  side  of  a  volcanic  rock,  one 
end  of  which  is  crowned  by  the  picturesque  mass  of  its 
Eastern-looking  cathedral.  It  consists  of  a  network  of 
narrow  streets  not  passable  by  carriages,  and  reminds 
one  forcibly  of  some  such  city  as  Genoa.  Above  the 
rock  on  which  the  cathedral  is  perched  rises  another, 
called  the  Corneille,  on  which  are  some  old  fortifica- 
tions, and  which  has  just  been  crowned  by  a  monstrous 
image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  made  of  the  metal  of  guns 
taken  at  Sebastopol,  to  whose  charge  I  may  fairly 
lay  much  of  the  imperfection  of  my  account  of  the  build- 
ings beneath  her  feet;  for  I  had  the  ill-luck  to  arrive  at 
Le  Puy  only  three  days  before  the  inauguration  of  this 
statue,  and  I  found  the  whole  city  so  entirely  occupied 
with  the  preparations  for  the  fete,  that  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  I  examined  the  cathedral  at  all, 
and  into  some  portions  of  it  I  was  quite  unable  to  pene- 
trate; whilst  the  only  condition  on  which  I  could  obtain 
rooms  at  an  inn  was  that  I  should  not  stop  for  more 
than  two  days,  and  should  make  room  for  some  bishop, 
[202] 


prince,  or  cardinal  (of  whom  there  were  a  legion  on  the 
road),  before  the  great  fete-day.  I  had  to  work  very 
hard,  therefore,  to  do  as  much  as  I  did,  and  I  make  no 
doubt  that  a  more  leisurely  and  uninterrupted  examina- 
tion would  have  enabled  me  to  discover  and  do  much 
more.  Separated  from  the  great  volcanic  rock  I  have 
already  mentioned  by  one  or  two  furlongs  only,  is  the 
smaller,  but  even  more  striking  rock,  called  the  Aiguille 
de  S.  Michel,  and  crowned  with  a  little  chapel  dedi- 
cated to  that  Archangel.  It  rises,  in  the  most  abrupt 
and  precipitous  manner,  to  a  height  of  about  265  feet. 
The  distant  background  includes  a  series  of  truncated 
conical  hills,  evidently  ancient  volcanoes,  and  from  almost 
every  point  of  view  a  landscape  of  the  most  picturesque 
and  extensive  description  is  seen.  Rarely  have  I  en- 
joyed a  more  charming  ride  than  that  which,  for  the  last 
twenty  miles  into  Le  Puy  on  the  road  from  S.  fitienne, 
made  me  generally  acquainted  with  the  remarkable 
physical  formation  of  this  mountain  district;  beautiful 
throughout,  it  was  at  its  best  just  when,  some  twelve  or 
fifteen  miles  before  I  reached  the  city,  I  first  saw  the 
"angelic"  church,  as  it  is  styled,  standing  up  boldly  on 
its  rock,  the  centre  of  an  almost  matchless  landscape. 

The  story  of  its  claim  to  this  style  of  "angelic"  is 
this.  Bishop  Evodius,  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  century, 
on  being  made  first  bishop  of  Le  Puy,  wished  to  construct 
a  church;  the  Virgin,  who  had  before  shown  to  S.  George 
the  place  where  she  wished  one  to  be  built,  appeared  to  a 
sick  woman  on  the  Mount  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
angels,  and  desired  her  to  tell  Evodius  to  proceed  at 
once  with  his  work.  After  much  prayer  he  went  to 
Rome,  and  the  Pope  sent  back  with  him  an  architect  and 
[203] 


senator  named  Scutarius,  under  whose  auspices  the 
church  was  soon  built,  and  whose  tombstone  is  still  to 
be  seen  near  the  transept  door.  Evodius  and  Scutarius 
then  started  for  Rome  again,  but  on  the  way  met  two 
old  men,  who  gave  them  two  boxes  of  relics,  and  de- 
sired them  to  return  to  Le  Puy,  saying  that  as  soon  as 
they  arrived  with  the  relics  before  the  church  the  doors 
would  open,  the  bells  would  ring  of  themselves,  the 
whole  interior  would  be  bright  with  torches  and  candles, 
and  they  should  hear  divine  melodies,  and  smell  the 
sweet  perfume  of  the  heavenly  oil  which  had  served  for 
the  consecration  of  the  church  by  the  angels.  Every- 
thing happened  just  as  had  been  foretold,  and  Evodius 
felt  it  unnecessary  again  to  consecrate  his  church,  which 
from  that  time  to  the  present  day  has  been  called  the 
"angelic"  church.  No  doubt  you  all  know  how  curious 
a  parallel  to  this  legend  the  history  of  our  own  Abbey 
of  S.  Peter  at  Westminster  affords.^    But  in  searching 

^  I  give  an  extract  from  "La  Estoire  de  Seint  Edward  le  Rei," 
MS.  Bibl.,  Publ.  Cambridge.  Ee  iii.  59: 

"  Seint  Pere,  du  del  claver,  "  La  nuit  quant  dedient  I'iglise 

"  Va  sa  iglise  dedier,  "  Tant  ja  du  ciel  luur 

"  Des  angeles  mut  grant  partie        "  Ke  vis  est  au  pescliur, 
"  Li  funt  servise  e  grant  aie.  •'  Ke  li  solailz  e  la  lune 

"  Li  angele  chantent  au  servise,    "  Lur  clarte  tute  i  preste  e  dune." 

This  is  the  rubric  descriptive  of  the  illustration,  whilst  in  the 
f)oem  itself  is  the  following  passage: 

"  E  cist  si  tost  cum  arive  "  Tant  ja  partut  odur, 

"  Entrez  est  en  sun  muster;  "  Ke  vis  est  a  eel  pescur 

"  Li  airs  devint  lusanz  e  clers,  "  Ke  li  solailz  la  lune 

"  N'out  en  muster  tenegre  ne  "  Sa  clarte  tute  preste  u  dune 

umbre;  "Angles  pu  eel  avaler 

"Atant    des    angres     grant  "  Regarde  e  puis  remunter; 

numbre,  "Teu  joie  a,  ke  li  est  vis 

"  Ki  s'en  venent  a  sum  servise  "  Ke  raviz  est  en  Parais, 

"A  dedier  cele  iglise.  "Pur   I'avisium   k'apert." 

[204] 


for  information  about  the  churches  of  Auvergne,  I  came 
upon  a  continuation  of  the  Le  Puy  legend,  to  which  the 
Westminster  story  affords  no  such  parallel.  This  second 
legend  tells  how,  when  the  seraphic  basilica  of  Le  Puy 
had  been  thus  dedicated,  S.  Anne  descended  from 
heaven  to  visit  the  palace  of  her  daughter.  Not  content 
with  this  human  work,  she  seized  the  hammer  of  the 
master-mason,  and,  taking  wing,  descended  on  the  sum- 
mit of  a  hill,  and,  turning  towards  Auvergne,  which  to 
her  mind  offered  no  church  worthy  of  the  Queen  of 
Heaven,  she  threw  the  hammer,  saying  as  she  threw  it, 
"On  the  place  where  the  hammer  falls  a  church  shall 
rise."  The  hammer  fell  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Allier, 
and  immediately  there  rose  from  the  soil  like  a  flower 
the  church  of  Les  Chases,  which  was  dedicated  forth- 
with to  S.  Mary.^ 

Let  us  now  leave  legends,  and  direct  our  attention  to 
the  ground-plan  of  the  cathedral.  Its  architects  have 
ingeniously  contrived  to  cover  the  whole  of  the  summit 
of  the  rock  on  which  it  stands.  It  consists  of  a  nave 
with  aisles,  transepts,  a  choir,  and  choir-aisles,  and  a 
steeple  at  the  east  end  of  the  north  choir-aisle.  To  the 
south  of  the  cathedral  is  the  modern  bishop's  palace, 
whilst  to  the  north  are  the  cloisters,  two  grand  halls, 
some  ruins,  and  to  the  north-east  a  chapel  dedicated  to 
S.  John  and  other  buildings.  There  are  entrances  in 
the  east  walls  of  each  of  the  transepts,  but  these  were 
rather  intended,  I  suppose,  for  the  exit  than  for  the 
entrance  of  the  people,  and  the  mode  in  which  they 
were  admitted  forms  one  of  the  most  striking  features 

^  UAuvergne  au  Moyen  Age,  by  M.  Dominique  Branche. 
Clermont-Ferrand,  1842. 

[205] 


of  the  whole  scheme.  I  said  that  the  church  was  built 
on  a  rock,  and  its  western  face,  forming  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets  of  the  city,  is  so  steep  as  to  consist  alter- 
nately of  steps  and  inclines,  until,  at  a  short  distance  in 
advance  of  the  west  front,  it  is  changed  to  an  almost 
interminable  flight  of  steps.  The  grand  west  entrance  is 
an  open  porch,  like  an  enormous  crypt,  beneath  the 
three  western  bays  of  the  nave  and  its  aisles,  whose 
walls  and  piers  it  reproduces  in  its  plan.  The  steps  ^ 
formerly  rose  in  a  straight  line,  until  they  came  up  in 
the  very  centre  of  the  church,  in  the  fifth  bay  of  the 
nave,  and  in  front  of  the  roof-loft,  and  of  the  miracle- 
working  image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  which,  brought 
from  the  East  and  given  to  the  church  by  S.  Louis,  was, 
until  its  destruction  in  a.d.  1789,  the  greatest  attraction 
for  pilgrims  in  France.^  This  singular  entrance,  and  the 
mode  of  exit  by  the  eastern  doors  of  the  transepts,  gave 
rise  to  an  old  saying,  "In  Notre  Dame  du  Puy  one 
entered  by  the  navel  and  went  out  by  the  ears."  Un- 
fortunately, however,  the  central  entrance  has  been 
diverted,  and  after  ascending  a  hundred  and  two  steps, 
and  arriving  at  the  Golden  Gate,  as  it  was  called,  the 
passage  branches  right  and  left  —  on  the  left  ascending 
into  the  cloister,  and  on  the  right  winding  round  the 
south  side  of  the  church,  until  the  hundred  and 
thirty-fifth  step  lands  the  weary  pilgrim  in  the  south 

1  The  steps  are  arranged  in  successive  groups  of  eleven,  with 
platforms  between  them. 

2  As  evidence  of  the  popularity  of  Notre  Dame  du  Puy  this  may 
suffice:  —  in  Amiens  cathedral,  until  a.d.  1820,  there  existed  a 
series  of  pictures  given  by  the  "  Confrerie  de  Notre  Dame  du  Puy." 
A  similar  confrerie  existed  at  Limoges. — G.  E.  S.  There  is  an  image 
and  a  devotion  of  N.  D.  du  Puy  at  Estella  in  Navarre,  carried  thither 
by  French  pilgrims. — G.  G.  K. 

[206] 


aisle,  near  the  transept.^  This,  then,  is  the  general 
scheme  of  this  most  singular  church.  Let  me  now 
go  on  to  describe  it  in  detail,  beginning  with  the  oldest 
portion.  This  comprises  the  choir,  the  transepts,  and 
crossing,  and  the  two  easternmost  bays  of  the  nave. 
The  choir  is  completely  modernized,  and  I  am  unable  to 
say  whether  any  portion  of  the  internal  arrangement  is 
old.  It  presents  the  peculiarity  of  a  square  exterior  and 
a  circular  interior.  This  is  a  not  uncommon  arrangement 
in  the  earliest  Italian  examples  of  the  apse,  and  is  seen  at 
St.  Mark's,  Venice,  and  elsewhere.  The  arches  opening 
into  the  choir-aisles  are  old,  and  I  believe  that  we  may 
venture  to  say  that  the  original  plan  must  have  been  very 
nearly  the  same  as  that  of  the  church  of  S.  Martin 
d'Ainay,  at  Lyon,  in  which  the  choir-aisles  are  shorter 
than  the  choir,  and  all  are  terminated  with  apses.^  I 
shall  have  other  occasion  to  point  out  that  at  a  later  date 
the  architects  of  Ainay  and  of  Le  Puy  must  have  been  the 
same.  The  date  of  the  foundation  of  Ainay  is  some  time 
in  the  ninth  century,  and  it  was  carried  on  until  the  end 
of  the  eleventh;  but  the  apse  and  capitals  of  the  columns 
of  the  crossing  —  for  the  columns  themselves  are  Roman 
—  cannot,  I  think,  be  later  than  about  a.d.  940  to  a.d. 
1000,  which  latter  would,  I  think,  be  the  date  generally 
accepted  for  this  portion  of  the  work  at  Le  Puy.  To 
proceed  with  my  notice.    The  crossing  is  surmounted 

^  The  passage  to  the  right  is  evidently  modern,  that  to  the  left 
looks  as  though  it  were  ancient,  but  a  protest  against  the  removal 
of  some  ancient  work,  in  the  course  of  constructing  it,  which  I 
have  found  in  the  Bulletin  Monumental  [A.  de  Caumont],  seems 
to  show  that  it  is  not  so. 

*  S.  Martin  d'Ainay,  at  Lyon,  is  a  parallel  triapsidal  church, 
with  a  central  dome,  and  a  western  tower  of  unusual  and  pictur- 
esque outline,  adorned  largely  with  inlaid  tiles  and  bricks. 

[207] 


by  a  quasi-dome,  carried  up  as  an  octagonal  lantern, 
much  of  which  has  been  modernised  in  restorations, 
whilst  much  is  quite  new;  though  the  universality  of 
the  raised  central  lantern  in  the  churches  of  the  district 
makes  it  probable  that  it  is,  to  some  extent,  a  proper 
restoration.^  The  transepts  are  covered  with  barrel- 
vaults,  strengthened  by  tranverse  ribs  of  a  square  sec- 
tion below  them;  the  small  apses  in  their  end  walls  have 
semi-domes,  and  the  tribunes  which  cross  them  are 
groined  with  quadripartite  vaults  without  ribs.  The 
whole  of  the  nave  is  covered  in  the  same  way  as  the 
crossing,  each  bay  being  divided  from  the  next  by  bold 
transverse  arches,  and  having  a  quasi-dome,  supported 
by  arches  across  the  angles  of  each  compartment,  and 
all  of  them,  in  truth,  being  not  domes,  but  eight-sided 
pointed  vaults,  springing  from  the  octagonal  bases  thus 
contrived.  There  are  no  pendentives,  properly  so  called, 
and  the  construction  is,  I  should  say,  that  of  men  who 
desired  to  erect  domes,  but  had  no  knowledge  whatever 
of  the  way  in  which  they  were  constructed  in  the  East; 
or  —  to  take  a  more  favorable  and,  perhaps,  juster 
view  —  of  men  who,  desiring  to  give  a  small  building 
the  greatest  possible  effect  of  space,  to  roof  it  with 
stone  (not  knowing  anything  yet  about  flying-buttresses), 
and  to  light  it  from  a  clerestory,  actually  solved  all 
these  points  in  a  successful  way.  Where  this  kind  of 
roof  was  first  attempted  I  am  quite  unable  to  say. 
Certainly  the  central  lantern  at  Ainay  is  so  identical  in 
character  with  some  of  those  at  Le  Puy,  that  the  same 

^  At  present  the  exterior  of  the  lantern  is  covered  with  a  domical 
roof;  but  an  illustration  that  I  have  seen  shows  it  finished  with  a 
low-pitched  tile  roof,  and  without  any  of  the  inlaid  mosaic  which 
is  now  upon  it. 

[208] 


workmen  must  have  executed  both;  but  there  seems 
to  be  no  other  example  in  the  same  district  as  Ainay, 
whereas  at  Le  Puy,  and  in  Velay  and  Auvergne,  every- 
thing is  more  or  less  roofed  on  the  same  principle.  The 
second  portion  of  the  cathedral  at  Le  Puy  consists  of 
the  third  and  fourth  bays  of  the  nave,  and  the  third  por- 
tion of  the  fifth  and  sixth  bays.^ 

The  latest  portion  is  of  early  pointed  character,  and 
not  later  in  date  than  circa  a.d.  1180  to  1200,  and  it  was 
at  the  same  time  that  this  was  erected  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  enormous  substructure  forming  the  porch 
was  also  completed.  The  aisles  throughout  the  church 
are  vaulted  with  quadripartite  vaults,  the  three  western 
bays  alone  having  ribs.  In  the  two  western  bays  there 
are  engaged  shafts  both  in  the  porch  and  above  it  in  the 
nave,  but  the  rest  of  the  piers  are  of  the  simplest  plan, 
large  and  generally  cruciform  in  their  section,  save  at 
the  crossing,  where  the  arches  are  carried  on  coupled 
detached  shafts.  There  is  much  elaborate  sculpture 
introduced  in  the  capitals  of  the  pilasters  and  columns 
of  the  nave,  but  it  is  nowhere  of  any  very  high  merit, 
and  is  so  inferior  in  delicacy  and  beauty  to  the  sculpture 
of  the  same  age  to  be  seen  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhone, 
that  I  should  attribute  it  to  a  native  school  of  sculptors 
acquainted,  probably,  with  none  but  inferior  Roman 
sculpture,  from  which  they  endeavoured  to  develope 
a  style  for  themselves,  A  clerestory  of  wide  and  rude 
round-headed  windows,  one  in  each  compartment, 
lights  the  series  of  domes  in  a  very  effective  manner. 

The  arches  across  the  nave  are  very  bold,  and,  in  the 

1  The  division  of  the  building  into  work  done  at  various  epochs 
is  beyond  question,  though  there  may  Ije  some  question  as  to  the 
date  I  assign. 

[209] 


wall  above  them,  an  opening  is  pierced  under  each  of  the 
cupolas.  As  is  generally  the  case,  however,  in  churches 
covered  in  this  way,  very  little  is  seen  of  the  real  vault 
in  any  general  view  of  the  church,  these  transverse 
arches  only,  with  the  quasi-pendent ives  above  them  being 
seen.  The  pendentives  are  true  semi-domes,  construc- 
ted in  alternate  courses  of  dark  and  light  stone,  and  the 
difference  between  their  plan  and  the  square  angle  in 
which  they  are  placed  is  skilfully  concealed  by  detached 
shafts,  with  capitals  placed  under  the  pendentives. 

I  think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  considering  its 
early  date  (no  part  probably  later  than  circa  a.d.  1150 
or  1180),  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  grander  or 
more  nervous  scheme,  or  one  which,  with  such  small 
dimensions,  conveys  nevertheless  so  great  an  im- 
pression of  size  and  importance.  The  choir-aisles 
were  altered  at  various  times.  That  on  the  south  has 
been  rebuilt  in  second-pointed  of  poor  character,  and 
is  now  a  mere  passage-way  to  the  modern  sacristy,  and 
that  on  the  north  was  probably  interfered  with  not  very 
long  after  its  first  construction,  when  the  great  steeple 
which  now  abuts  upon  it  was  commenced.  M.  Meri- 
mee,^  in  his  very  interesting  description  of  the  church, 
suggests  that  the  base  of  the  tower  was  originally  a  bap- 
tistery, but  I  see  no  reason  whatever  for  this  suggestion 
and  it  is  impossible  to  doubt,  when  we  carefully  examine 
the  whole  design,  that  though  the  steeple  was  long  in 
building,  the  main  feature  in  its  design  was  from  the 
first  just  what  we  now  see  it  to  be.  Moreover,  the 
chapel  of  S.  Jean  close  by  is  said  to  have  been  the 
baptistery  for  the  whole  city  until  within  the  last  sixty 
^  Merimee,  Notes  d'un  Voyage  en  Auvergne,  p.  226. 
[  210  ] 


years.  The  design  of  the  steeple  is  very  bizarre  and 
unusual.  It  consists  of  a  long  series  of  no  less  than  nine 
stages  on  the  exterior,  and  it  diminishes  rapidly  in 
diameter,  and  is,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  more  curious 
than  pleasing  in  its  outlines.  If  you  look  at  the  ground- 
plan  you  will  see  that  its  construction  is  most  remark- 
able. The  internal  diameter  of  the  tower  at  the  base  is 
twenty-four  feet  six  inches,  but  this  is  reduced  to  only 
twelve  feet  by  four  detached  piers,  one  foot  ten  and 
one-half  inches  square.  These  piers  are  carried  up  from 
the  base  to  the  very  summit,  detached  in  the  three 
lower  stages,  and  forming  part  of  the  thickness  of  the 
wall  in  the  portion  above.  The  highest  stage  of  the 
steeple,  twelve  feet  in  internal  and  sixteen  feet  in  ex- 
ternal diameter,  is  therefore,  as  nearly  as  possible, 
carried  up  on  these  four  piers,  and  the  rapid  decrease 
in  the  external  dimensions,  from  thirty-six  feet  to  six- 
teen feet,  was  only  rendered  possible  by  this  very  ingen- 
ious mode  of  construction.  So  far  as  I  know  there  is 
only  one  other  example  of  the  same  scheme,  viz.  in  the 
steeple  of  the  cathedral  of  S.  Etienne  at  Limoges. 
Here,  however,  the  base  is  the  only  portion  remaining 
of  the  original  work,  and  the  columns  are  cylindrical  in 
place  of  being  square,  but  it  is  evident  that  the  inten- 
tion was  the  same  as  at  Le  Puy.  The  steeple  at  Limoges 
is  probably  the  first  in  point  of  date.  M.  Viollet-le- 
Duc  dates  it  at  about  a.d.  1050,  but  the  Abbe  Arbellot, 
in  a  learned  paper  on  the  cathedral,  in  the  Bulletin 
of  the  Societe  Archeologique  et  Historique  du  Limousin, 
maintains  that  it  was  certainly  built  before  a.d.  1012, 
when  the  Bishop  Arnaud  de  Perigeux,  after  assisting  at 
the  consecration  of  Bishop  Gerald  at  Poitiers,  accom- 
C  211  ] 


panied  him  to  Limoges,  and  put  the  cords  of  the  bells  into 
his  hands.  The  lower  part  of  the  steeple  at  Le  Puy 
may,  I  think,  safely  be  referred  to  the  end  of  the  eleventh 
century,  and  its  completion  to  the  end  of  the  twelfth, 
whilst  the  planning  appears  to  me  to  be  thoroughly 
characteristic  of  a  Byzantine  artist,  the  construction  of 
the  piers  in  the  lowest  stage  being  almost  identical  with 
that  of  the  main  piers  under  the  domes  of  S.  Mark's, 
Venice,  and  S.  Front,  Perigueux. 
•  The  arrangement  of  the  belfry  stage,  with  its  gable 
on  each  face,  is  very  noteworthy,  and  is,  perhaps,  one 
of  the  earliest  examples  of  a  type  which  was  developed 
afterwards  into  the  well-known  arrangement  of  the  belfry 
of  the  south-west  tower  at  Chartres,  and  this,  with  the 
influence  of  the  churches  of  the  Rhine,^  developed  in 
almost  all  subsequent  modifications  of  the  spire  with  its 
gabled  spire-lights;  one  of  the  windows  under  this  pedi- 
ment is  planned  in  a  most  ingenious  manner,  presenting 
externally  a  semi-dome  pierced  by  two  pointed  arches; 
another  window  is  pierced  with  a  trefoil  head,  the  diam- 
eter of  which  is  much  larger  than  that  of  the  light  it 
surmounts.  This  is  a  favorite  form  of  cusping  through- 
out this  district.  I  have  seen  it  in  Lyon,  at  Vienne,  often 
at  Le  Puy,  at  Brioude,  at  Notre- Dame-du- Port,  Cler- 
mont, and  in  the  south  porch  at  Bourges;  and  there  can, 
I  think,  be  little  doubt  that  it  is  somewhat  Eastern  in 
its  origin,  and  analogous  to  the  horseshoe  form  of  arch. 
The  cloister  on  the  north  side  of  the  church  appears 

to  be  in  part  coeval  with  the  earliest,^  or,  perhaps,  the 
^  See  VioUet-le-Duc  {Dictionnaire,  art.  "Clocher"  pp.  312-18) 

for  a  reference  to  this  influence  of  the  Rhine  churches. 
^  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  considers  the  earliest  part  of  the  cloister  to 

date  from  the  tenth  century:  M.  Merimee  thinks  the  eleventh 

century  more  likely. 

C  212  ] 


second  portion  of  the  fabric,  and  in  part  with  the  later 
additions  to  it.    It  consists  of  a  simple  arcade  of  round 
arches  on  rather  solid  piers,  with  a  detached  shaft  on 
each  face.    The  capitals  are  all  richly  sculptured,  some 
with  figures,  some  with  foliage.    The  spandrels  of  the 
arches  are  filled  in  with  a  reticulation  of  coloured  stones; 
above  the  arches  runs  a  band  of  similar  ornament,  and 
above  this  again  a  carved  cornice,  which  in  the  later  part 
of  the  cloister  forms  a  sort  of  frieze.    In  this  portion  the 
arches  have  sculptured  key-stones,  a  peculiarity  which  I 
hardly  remember  to  have  met  with  before  in  work  of 
the  same  date.    On  the  south  side  there  are  two  fluted 
shafts  and  one  spiral;    all  the  rest  are  circular,  but 
noticeable  for  their  very  considerable  entasis.     The 
groining  is  all  quadripartite  without  ribs,  and  executed 
with  rough  stones,  set  in  concrete,  on  a  centring  of 
boards.    The  cloister  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  with 
buildings.    On  the  south  is  the  cathedral;  on  the  east, 
and  opening  to  the  cloister  by  an  arcade  of  open  arches, 
is  a  large  hall  covered  with  a  pointed  barrel-vault.  This 
was  originally  called  the  choir  of  S.  Andre,  and  in  it 
masses  in  commemoration  of  the  dead  were  said,  and 
services  held  on  the  feasts  of  the  Invention  and  Exalta- 
tion of  the  Cross,  and  on  the  feasts  of  S.  Andrew  and 
S.  Eustachius.    It  was  also  called  "caemeterium,"  being 
used  for  the  burial  of  the  clergy,  and  is  now  called 
the  chapel  des  Moris.    On  the  wall  are  still   to  be 
seen  remains  of  a  painting  of  the  Crucifixion,  with  many 
prophets  and  angels,  S.  Mary  and  S.  John,  the  sun 
and  moon,  etc.    In  the  northern  gable  of  this  building 
is  a  fine  cylindrical  chimney,  built  in  alternate  courses  of 
dark  and  light  stone,  and  rising  from  a  fireplace  in  a 

[213] 


chamber  over  the  hall,  and  of  the  same  date  as  the 
hall.  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  gives  a  drawing  of  the  fire- 
place, which  is  of  a  not  uncommon  early  type,  the  head 
projecting  considerably  on  a  semicircular  plan.  At  the 
north  end  of  the  Salle  des  Morts  is  a  passage  leading  to 
the  cloister,  and  along  the  whole  northern  boundary 
once  stood  a  vast  range  of  building  called  the  Maitrise.^ 
Nothing  now  remains  of  this  save  its  undercroft,  which 
was  spanned  by  bold  pointed  arches  of  stone,  on  which 
the  wooden  floor  rested.  The  Maitrise  was  pulled  down 
a  few  years  since,  and,  not  long  before,  a  tower  close  by 
it,  called  the  tower  of  S.  Mayol,  was  also  destroyed. 
It  is  described  as  an  erection  of  the  eleventh  century, 
battlemented,  but  without  machicoulis.^  It  seems  to 
have  served  as  part  of  the  fortification  of  the  church, 
which  was  also  attended  to  in  an  alteration  of  the 
building  on  the  west  side  of  the  cloister,  in  the  four- 
teenth century.  This  building  contained,  below,  a  hall 
on  a  level  with  the  church,  which  was  the  chapel  of  the 
Holy  Relics;  above  was  the  Salle  des  Etats  of  Velay, 
with  a  stone  barrel-roof,  now  both  thrown  into  one  room. 
Above  these  again  was  an  open  space  under  the  roof, 
protected  on  the  side  towards  the  town  by  a  magnificent 
overhanging  battlement  and  machicolation  of  the  four- 
teenth century,  and  quite  open  on  the  side  towards  the 
cloister  save  for  the  stone  piers  supporting  the  roof. 
The  machicoulis  are  some  of  the  finest  I  have  ever  seen, 
and  project  from  the  buttresses  as  well  as  from  the  walls. 
The  only  access  to  this  stage  of  the  building  seems  to 

^  The  Mattrise   was,   I    believe,    the  school  attached  to  the 
cathedral. 

^  Merimee,  Notes  d'un  Voyage  en  Auvergne,  p.  232. 

[214] 


I 


have  been  from  the  roof  of  the  cathedral.  Le  Puy  was, 
in  the  first  instance,  selected  as  a  site  for  the  cathedral 
because  it  afforded  so  secure  a  refuge  from  attack,  and 
in  later  days  it  seems  to  have  been  not  less  necessary  to 
provide  against  danger:  for  among  other  enemies  the 
Lords  of  Polignac,  whose  magnificent  castle  is  visible 
from  the  steeple  of  the  cathedral,  only  some  four  miles 
distant,  were  the  most  conspicuous  as  they  were  also 
the  most  powerful.  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  supposes,  indeed, 
that  the  tower  of  the  cathedral  was  meant  in  part  for 
defence;  but  I  see  no  evidence  of  this,  and  possibly  he 
had  in  his  mind  the  destroyed  tower  of  S.  Mayol, 
which,  as  well  as  the  double  wall  of  enceinte  which 
formerly  surrounded  the  whole  cathedral,  was  no  doubt 
a  purely  military  construction.  Fortified  churches  are 
by  no  means  uncommon  in  this  part  of  France.  At 
Brioude  is  a  painting  showing  the  church  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  a  crenellated  and  turreted  wall  in  a.d.  1636; 
and  Royat,  near  Clermont,  and  the  abbey  church  of 
Menat,  also  in  Auvergne,  still  retains  provisions  for  de- 
fence. The  Salle  des  Etats  contained  formerly  the 
archives  of  Velay,  and  in  removing  them  a  few  years 
since  (about  a.d.  1850)  portions  of  a  hanging  of  blue 
wool,  "semee"  with  fleurs-de-lys,  and  adorned  with  the 
armorial  bearings  of  Jean  de  Bourbon,  Bishop  of  Le 
Puy  from  a.d.  1443  to  1485,  were  found.^    At  the  same 

Mt  is  very  difficult  to  understand  precisely  where  these  hangings 
were  found.  M.  Aymard,  a  distinguished  antiquary  at  Le  Puy,  in 
the  Album  Photographique  d' Archeologie  Religieuse,  speaks  of  the 
painting  on  the  wall  of  the  Salle  des  £iats,  and  then,  in  another 
place,  says  that  the  tapestries  given  by  Jean  de  Bourbon  served 
to  decorate  the  Salle  des  £lals  of  Velay,  and  after  the  regrettable 
destruction  of  that  hall  the  remains  of  them  were  preserved  part 
in  the  cathedral  and  part  in  the  museum.    Possibly  he  refers  to 

[215] 


time  a  curious  painting  on  the  east  wall  of  the  lower 
chamber  was  discovered  under  the  whitewash.  It  rep- 
resents four  liberal  sciences  —  Grammar,  Logic,  Rhet- 
oric, and  Music  —  as  females  seated  with  ancient 
worthies  at  their  feet.  Priscian  sits  below  Grammar, 
writing;  and  two  boys,  with  open  books,  are  on  her 
other  side.  Logic  holds  a  lizard  in  one  hand  and  a 
scorpion  in  the  other,  and  Aristotle  is  arguing  below. 
The  inscription  underneath  is  —  "Me  sine  doctores 
frustra  coluere  sorores,"  and  each  figure  has  a  corre- 
sponding leonine  verse  inscribed  below.  Rhetoric  holds 
a  file  in  her  left  hand,  and  Cicero  sits  at  her  feet.  Music 
plays  an  organ,  whilst  Tubal,  with  two  hammers,  plays 
upon  an  anvil.  There  used  —  according  to  the  "Chro- 
nique  des  Medicis"  —  to  be  a  second  painting  here  with 
figures  of  young  demoiselles  gorgeously  clothed,  and 
from  the  same  chronicle  it  appears  that  Messire  Pierre 
Odin,  official  of  the  Bishop  Jean  de  Bourbon,  who  died 
in  1502,  presented  both:  —  "II  estait  si  grant  orateur 
que,  par  son  mellifere  et  suaviloquent  langage,  fust 
commis  plusieurs  fois  estre  ambassadeur  devers  le 
Pape  a  la  requette  du  tres-excellent  et  redoute  Prince 
Louis  XI.  roy  de  France,  lequel  dudict  Pape  obtint 
grande  louange  et  avoir,  ce  que  il  employa  en  divers 
fagons  et  moyens  en  aulmosnes  et  a  la  decoration  de 
cette  saincte  eglise  du  Puy."  The  picture  has  consid- 
erable merit;  its  detail  is  a  mixture  of  Renaissance  and 
Gothic,  and  the  Gothic  portion  —  as  for  instance,  the 
chair  on  which  one  of  the  figures  sits  —  is  not  Italian, 
and  I  should  be  inclined  to  suppose  that  it  was  the 

the  removal  of  the  floor  below  the  Salle  des  Etats,  for  the  hall  itself 
has  not  been  destroyed. 

[216] 


work,  therefore,  of  a  French  artist.  Its  date  must  be 
between  1475  and  1502.  Louis  XI.  came  to  Le  Puy  on 
a  pilgrimage  in  1475. 

The  external  side  elevation  of  the  church  is  best  seen 
from  the  cloister,  and,  with  a  few  words  upon  this,  I  will 
leave  this  portion  of  the  building.  Here,  even  more 
clearly  than  inside,  the  division  of  the  building  into 
work  of  different  epochs  is  seen.  The  two  bays  nearest 
the  crossing  have  large  coupled  windows  in  the  aisle^ 
with  parti-coloured  voussoirs  and  jamb  shafts.  The 
clerestory  is  very  peculiar  in  its  treatment,  and  undoubt- 
edly very  effective;  the  windows  are  of  one  light  in  each 
bay  and  round-headed  and  on  each  side  of  them  above 
the  springing  there  is  a  recess  in  the  wall,  in  the  centre 
of  which  a  detached  shaft  is  placed  to  carry  the  cornice. 
A  similar  recess  and  a  smaller  shaft  occur  immediately 
over  the  arch  of  the  window,  and  the  window-arch  being 
built  of  alternately  dark  and  light  stone,  and  all  the 
sunk  panels  being  filled  in  with  geometrical  patterns, 
composed  in  the  same  way,  an  extremely  rich  effect  is 
obtained.  Recesses  of  the  same  kind  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  walls  occur  all  along  the  eastern  face  of  the  transept 
at  Le  Puy;  and  between  the  clerestory  windows  of 
Notre- Dame-du- Port,  Clermont;  S.  Paul,  Issoire;  and 
commonly  in  Auvergne.  But  so  far  as  I  can  judge  from 
the  portion  of  the  cathedral  in  which  they  occur,  and 
from  the  early  and  simple  character  of  the  work  itself^ 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it  is  earlier  here  than  in 
any  of  the  other  examples.  It  would  be  of  great  interest 
to  have  some  more  positive  evidence  on  this  and  other 
similar  questions  of  date.  But,  so  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  discover,  there  is  no  such  evidence,  and  we  are 
[217] 


left  in  doubt,  therefore,  whether  this  portion  of  the 
architecture  of  Velay  came  from  Auvergne,  or  whether 
the  reverse  was  the  case;  as  also  whether  this  external 
decoration  of  the  fabric  is  coeval  with  its  first  erection, 
or  is  a  subsequent  addition. 

The  two  central  compartments  of  the  nave  have  cir- 
cular windows  (sixteen  feet  in  diameter)  to  light  the 
aisle,  and  round-headed  windows  in  the  clerestory;  and 
between  the  arches  of  the  latter  windows  are  small 
arched  recesses.  In  the  two  western  bays  the  clerestory 
is  similar,  save  that  the  intermediate  recessed  arch  is 
omitted.  In  both  the  voussoirs  are  counter-charged, 
and  the  wall  from  the  springing  u  p  to  the  eaves  is  coursed 
with  stone  and  lava.  The  transept  gables  are  only 
noticeable  for  the  courses  of  inlaid  patterns  with  which 
they  are  enriched.  All  these  patterns  are  formed  with 
white  stone  and  lava.  The  latter,  indeed,  forms  the 
whole  ground  of  the  walls,  and  varies  in  colour  from  a 
greenish  grey  to  black;  and  the  patterns  are  formed  with 
the  darkest  lava  and  stone.  The  cloister  is  similarly 
inlaid  above  the  arches,  but  it  has  almost  all  been  re- 
stored in  a  most  injudicious  manner.  They  have  struck 
and  ruled  (I  believe  that  is  the  technical  phrase  for  this 
most  abominable  of  inventions,  is  it  not?)  an  enormous 
red  mortar  joint  between  all  the  stones,^  and  wherever 
this  has  been  done  the  diaper  appears  to  be  formed  with 
a  chequer  of  black  and  red;  wherever  the  cloister  has 
not  been  retouched  the  diaper  is  black  and  white. 

I  have  left,  almost  until  the  last,  that  which  is  after 

all  the  crowning  wonder  of  this  singular  church  —  the 

^  M.  Mallay,  of  Clermont,  says  that  the  mosaic  work  of  the 
church  of  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  Clermont,  was  all  set  in  red  mortar 
originally. 

[  218  ] 


western  porch.  I  have  already  referred  to  its  position 
and  plan.  The  majesty,  I  may  say  the  awfulness,  of 
this  entrance,  can  hardly  be  exaggerated.  It  owes 
little  to  delicate  detail  or  enrichment  of  any  kind,  for, 
though  these  have  been,  they  are  no  longer;  but  it  is 
the  gloom  and  darkness,  the  simple,  nervous  forms  of 
arch  and  pier,  the  long  flight  of  steps  lost  in  obscurity 
and  crowded  constantly  (when  I  saw  them)  with  a  throng 
of  worshippers,  which  constitute  the  strange  charm  of 
this  strangest  of  entrances.  I  told  you  that  in  the  nave 
the  two  western  bays  of  the  aisle  alone  had  groining 
ribs;  in  the  porch  below  it  is  only  in  the  western  bay 
that  they  are  used,  and  this  affords  interesting  evi- 
dence of  the  very  gradual  yet  regular  development 
of  our  art. 

The  spaces  below  the  aisles  in  the  third  bay  from  the 
west  form  chapels  —  that  on  the  right  dedicated  to 
S.  Martin,  and  that  on  the  left  to  S.  Gilles.  Be- 
fore the  last  extension  of  the  building  these  chapels 
were  at  the  extreme  west  end.  They  have  western  door- 
ways, which  still  retain  the  wooden  doors.  Each  of 
these  doors  was  of  four  divisions  in  height,  covered  with 
subjects  carved  in  low  relief.  They  are  executed  either 
in  cedar  or  oak  (I  am  uncertain  which,  for  they  are 
covered  with  paint),  and  the  subjects,  inscriptions,  and 
borders  are  all  obtained  simply  by  sinking  the  ground 
three-sixteenths  of  an  inch.  The  figures  are,  of  course, 
only  in  outline,  but  it  is  still  evident  that  they  were  care- 
fully painted  with  draperies,  etc.,  so  as  to  be  thoroughly 
distinct.  There  is  some  appearance  of  the  ground  hav- 
ing been  painted  with  broad  horizontal  bands  of  colour, 
but  the  traces  are  so  indistinct  that  it  is  difficult  to  speak 
[219] 


positively.^  The  doors  are  hung  folding,  and  those  to 
the  chapel  of  S.  Gilles  contain  subjects  from  the 
early  life  of  our  Lord,  whilst  those  in  the  chapel  of 
S.  Martin  contain  subjects  from  His  Passion.  The 
meeting-rail  in  the  former  fortunately  contains  an  in- 
scription of  extreme  value:  "Gaulfredus  :  me:  fct: 
Petrus  :  epi";  after  which  some  letters  are  lost.  If 
my  reading  of  the  last  letter  but  one  as  "p"  is  correct,  I 
think  it  leads  to  a  most  important  inference.  No  one  who 
looks  at  the  design  of  these  gates  can  doubt  that  they 
are  thoroughly  Eastern  in  their  character;  and,  upon 
searching  for  the  lists  of  bishops  of  Le  Puy  since  my 
return,  I  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  first  bishop  of 
the  name  of  Peter  ^  was  consecrated  at  Ravenna  by 
Leo  IX.  in  a.d.  1043,  and  died  at  Genoa  a.d.  1053,  as 
he  returned  from  the  Holy  Land.  Gates  of  the  same 
description  are  said  to  exist  in  the  churches  of  Cha- 
mailleres  and  of  Lavoulte-Chilhac  in  the  same  district, 
whilst  other  evidence  of  intercourse  with  the  East  is 
afforded  by  fragments  of  Hssus  preserved  at  Monestier, 
at  Pebrac,  and  at  Lavoulte-Chilhac.  These  Hssus  are 
all  extremely  Eastern  in  their  character,  and  very  similar 
to  the  famous  cope  at  Chinon  described  by  M.  de  Cau- 
mont  in  the  Abecedaire,  and  to  the  Le  Mans  tissu  de- 
scribed byM.  Hucher  in  i\\e  Bulletin  Monumental  (1846, 
p.  24).  The  date  ordinarily  attributed  to  them  is  the 
middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  which  exactly  tallies 
with  the  return  of  Bishop  Peter  from  the  Holy  Land.  I 
dwell  on  this  the  more  because,  if  the  inference  I  have 

^  See  further  observations  on  this  subject,  page  223. 
^  The  predecessor  in  the  See,  Stephen  II.,  uncle  of  Bishop  Peter 
I.,  was  buried  at  Lavoulte-Chilhac. 

[220] 


drawn  from  the  inscription  be  true,  it  gives  tlie  date 
also  to  tlie  second  portion  of  the  construction  of  the 
cathedral,  to  which  the  chapels  in  the  porch  undoubt- 
edly belong;  and  the  result  would  be  that  whilst  I 
should  date  the  earliest  portion  of  the  church  at  about 
the  end  of  the  tenth  century,  or  quite  the  commence- 
ment of  the  eleventh,  the  second  portion  would  be  dated 
at  about  a.d.  1050;  and,  finally,  there  is  little  doubt  as 
to  the  whole  having  been  completed  in  the  course  of 
the  twelfth  century.^  These  dates  are,  as  in  all  such 
cases,  of  course  only  approximate;  and  it  is  pretty  clear 
that  there  was  seldom  any  long  pause  in  the  works,  and 
the  development  in  their  architectural  features  is  there- 
fore very  gradual. 

The  external  elevation  in  the  west  front  is  similar  in 
style  to  the  clerestory  on  the  north  side,  and  mainly  exe- 
cuted in  alternate  courses  of  lava  and  stone.  The  aisle- 
roofs  are  masked  by  walls  with  pediments.  Throughout 
this  part  of  the  work  you  will  observe  that  its  early 
date  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the  round  arch  is  almost 
invariably  used  for  ornament,  and  the  pointed  arch  only 
where  great  strength  was  required.  A  great  buttress, 
which  had  been  built  against  this  vast  front,  was  removed 
during  the  recent  restorations. 

I  observed  before  that  there  are  doorways  on  the 
east  side  of  both  transepts  —  the  "ears"  referred  to  in 
an  old  saying.  The  south  transept  door  is  in  itself  re- 
markable for  the  peculiar  form  of  the  cusping  of  its 
arch,  and  still  more  for  the  magnificent  porch  built  over 

^  A  diploma  of  a.d.  1146  is  dated  from  the  "Ville  d'Anis" 
(i.e.  Le  Puy)  and  fixes  the  date  at  which  this  "cite"  received  the 
name  of  "ville." 

[221] 


it.  The  date  of  this  is  the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth 
century.  It  is  open  on  the  south  and  east  sides,  and 
abuts  on  the  church  on  the  west  and  north,  occupying 
the  re-entering  angle  between  the  transept  and  choir 
aisle.  The  arch  is  remarkable  for  a  rib  detached  below 
the  arch,  and  connected  at  intervals  with  it  by  columns, 
so  as  to  have  the  appearance  of  being  suspended.  My 
impression  is  that  the  architect  feared  that  his  arch  had 
not  sufficient  abutment,  and  hoped  by  bringing  some  of 
the  weight  on  to  the  lower  rims  of  the  arch  to  remedy 
this  defect.  The  whole  detail  of  this  porch  is  a  very 
rich  kind  of  pointed,  full  of  half- Romanesque  and  half- 
Byzantine  detail.  The  groining,  in  alternate  coloured 
courses,  is  quadripartite,  but  has  the  very  rare  feature 
(in  France)  of  ridge  ribs.  Above  the  porch  is  a  room  or 
chapel,  to  which  I  omitted  to  gain  access.  Over  the  door 
of  the  other  (north)  transept  a  great  arch,  thrown  from 
the  cathedral  to  the  chapel  of  S.  Jean,  carries  another 
chapel,  lighted  with  a  first-pointed  triplet.  This  door 
is  square-headed,  and  covered  with  rich  though  rude 
ironwork.  The  door-handles  have  a  resemblance  to  one 
in  the  cathedral  at  Treves  made  by  Jean  and  Nicholas 
of  Bingen,  which  struck  me,  and  was  remarked  on  also, 
I  find,  by  M.  Merimee.  The  lintel  of  the  door  is  deeper 
at  the  centre  than  at  the  sides  of  the  door,  pediment- 
like, and  has  figures  of  our  Lord  and  the  Twelve  Apostles 
carved  on  it,  whilst  above,  under  a  circular  arch,  is 
another  figure  of  our  Lord,  with  an  angel  on  either  side. 
The  whole  has  been  very  much  mutilated  and  all  the  fig- 
ures are  hacked  to  pieces.  The  ground  was  painted,  and 
no  doubt  the  figures  were  also,  and  the  woodwork  of  the 
door  was  covered  with  linen  or  leather  under  ironwork. 
[  222  ] 


The  very  ancient  chapel  of  S,  Jean  is  close  to  this 
door,  and  by  its  side  is  a  fifteenth  century  archway. 
The  chapel  is  arcaded  on  its  south  side  and  pierced  with 
very  simple  windows.  Some  antiquaries  assert  that  it  is 
a  piece  of  Roman  construction,  and  it  is  not  impossible, 
though  I  should  be  much  more  inclined  to  call  it  tenth 
century  work.  The  chapel  has  a  rude  quadripartite 
vault,  and  its  apsidal  chancel  is  roofed  with  a  semi-dome. 

I  must  conclude  my  long  notice  of  this  church  by 
some  mention  of  the  extensive  remains  of  painted  deco- 
rations still  visible.  During  the  late  restorations  of  the 
cathedral,  I  understand  from  M.  Aymard,  the  greater 
portion  were  destroyed.  The  vaults  of  the  north  tran- 
sept and  the  semi-domes  of  its  apsidal  recesses  are  still, 
however,  covered  with  paintings,  though  they  are  scarcely 
intelligible,  owing  to  darkness  and  dirt.  In  one  of  them 
occurs  a  figure  of  our  Lord  giving  the  benediction  in  the 
Greek  fashion,  and  it  is  one  of  the  many  evidences 
which  may  be  adduced  of  the  Eastern  influence  visible 
here  in  so  many  respects,  though  I  am  not  disposed  to 
lay  so  much  stress  upon  it  as  some  of  those  did  who 
engaged   in   the  controversy   it   occasioned.^     In   the 

^  See  M.  Aymard's  Album  Photo graphique  d' Archeologie  Re- 
ligieuse,  and  a  communication  from  the  same  gentleman  in  the 
Bulletin  Archeol.  vol.  ii.  p.  645.  M.  Aymard  mentions  one  other 
example,  a  diptych,  figured  in  Montfaucon  (L'Antiquite  Expliquee) 
vol.  iii.  p.  89,  which  dates  from  about  a.d.  900.  The  hand  at 
Le  Puy  is  larger  than  life,  and  has  a  double  nimbus  round  it,  the 
inner  yellow,  the  outer  dark  red;  the  hand  is  white  and  the  ground 
within  the  nimbus  dark  blue.  The  Secretary  of  the  Comite  His- 
torique  des  Arts  et  Monuments  considers  that  this  representation 
of  the  Greek  mode  of  giving  the  benediction  makes  it  certain  that 
the  work  at  Le  Puy  is  Byzantine  in  its  origin.  But  one  may,  I 
think,  be  allowed  to  doubt  whether  this  conclusion  is  to  be  abso- 
lutely depended  on. 


western  porch  there  are  also  extensive  remains  of  paint- 
ing; the  soffits  of  the  arches  in  the  third  bay  from  the 
west  are  ail  painted,  and  so  too  are  the  walls  over 
the  altars  in  the  chapels  of  S.  Martin  and  S.  Gilles. 
The  painting  was  executed  on  a  thick  coat  of  plaster, 
and  the  nimbi  are  of  gold  with  lines  incised  on  them. 
No  doubt  the  whole  church  once  glittered  with  gold  and 
colour,  and,  seeing  how  fine  its  effect  still  is,  we  may, 
aiding  the  indications  still  left  with  our  recollections  of 
Assisi,  of  Venice,  and  of  Padua,  people  the  bare  walls 
once  again,  and  bring  before  our  eyes  an  interior  of  the 
most  gorgeous  magnificence. 

I  may  conclude  what  I  have  to  say  about  the  cathe- 
dral with  a  few  words  about  the  sacristy  and  its  contents. 
The  building  itself  is  not  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  old,  and  most  of  its  treasures  have  been  lost.  The 
most  precious  relic  still  left  is  a  Bible,  which,  by  a  note 
at  its  end,  is  stated  to  have  been  written  by  S.  Theodulf , 
Bishop  of  Orleans,  in  the  ninth  century,  and  sent  by  him, 
in  accomplishment  of  a  vow,  to  the  shrine  of  Notre  Dame 
du  Puy.  It  is  a  quarto  of  347  leaves  of  very  fine  vellum, 
some  white  with  black  letters,  and  others  purple  or  violet 
with  gold  or  silver  letters.  It  contains  the  Old  and  New 
Testament,  commentaries  on  the  text,  interpretations 
of  Hebrew,  Greek  and  Latin  words,  and  some  poems  by 
Theodulf.  The  pages  are  interleaved  with  excessively 
delicate  tissues  of  various  colours  and  patterns,  which 
appear  to  be  of  the  same  age  as  the  book,  and  of  East- 
ern manufacture.  They  are  made  of  china  crepe,  cotton, 
silk,  linen,  poil-de-chevre,  and  camel's  hair,  of  extreme 
fineness,  and  of  various  colours  and  patterns.^  The 
^  M.  Aymard.  See  footnote  on  preceding  page. 
[224] 


binding  is,  however,  later,  and  of  red  velvet  on  cham- 
fered oak  boards,  with  good  simple  metal  knobs.  There 
are  also  preserved  here  some  wax  candles,  tapering  con- 
siderably in  their  length,  and  stamped  with  a  pattern 
made  by  a  pointed  instrument;  and,  finally,  there  is  a 
tippet  embroidered  with  a  tree  of  Jesse,  said  to  have  been 
of  Charlemagne's  time.  It  is  not  so  old  as  is  said,  but 
may  possibly  be  (though  I  very  much  doubt  it)  of  the 
twelfth  or  thirteenth  century,  but  it  has  been  much 
damaged  by  removal  from  its  original  ground  and  by 
partial  re-working.  The  sacristy  also  contains  a  reli- 
quary of  very  late  sixteenth-century  date,  of  which  a 
photograph  has  been  published  by  M.  Aymard,  but 
which  was  not  shown  to  me;  and  an  almost  endless  roll 
of  vellum  illuminated  with  a  chronological  tree  of  the 
history  of  the  world. 

How  much  has  been  lost  may  be  guessed  from  some 
statistics  which  I  have  come  upon  as  to  the  number  of 
silversmiths  and  specimens  of  their  work  in  Le  Puy  in 
the  Middle  Ages:  in  a.d.  1408  there  were  no  less  than 
forty  resident  in  the  city,  whilst  as  to  their  work  I  find 
in  A.D.  1444  there  were  in  the  sacristy  33  chdsses  and 
reliquaries,  26  chalices,  11  statues  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  angels,  and  other  figures,  10  candelabra,  9  crosses, 
9  lamps,  9  mitres,  crosses  with  their  stems,  episcopal 
rings,  crowns  for  the  Virgin,  censers,  paxes,  basins, 
plates,  books  with  covers  adorned  with  chasings,  pearls 
and  precious  stones,  and  many  like  things;  and  in  a.d. 
1475  I  find  that  Louis  XI.  gave  30  silver  marks  for  a 
canopy  over  the  miracle-working  figure  of  Notre  Dame 
du  Puy,  which  was  made  by  Frangois  Gimbert,  a  silver- 
smith of  Le  Puy.  Other  churches  in  the  neighbourhood 
[225] 


have  been  more  fortunate  in  retaining  some  of  their  old 
plate,  and  a  fair  list  might  be  made  out,  if  I  had  time, 
of  their  possession,  many  of  which  have  been  photo- 
graphed by  M.  Aymard. 

The  building  of  the  greatest  interest,  after  the  cathe- 
dral, is  the  little  church  of  S.  Michel,  which  crowns 
the  rock  fitly  called  the  Aiguille.  It  is  reached  by  steps 
winding  irregularly  round  the  rock,  to  the  shape  of  the 
summit  of  which  it  has  been  most  ingeniously  adapted. 
The  oldest  portion  of  the  building  is  the  square  choir, 
covered  with  a  dome,  under  which  stands  the  principal 
altar.  To  the  (ritual)  east  and  north  of  this  are  apsidal 
projections,  and  to  the  south  an  archway,  which  as  it 
agrees  exactly  in  dimensions  with  the  others,  opened, 
no  doubt,  into  a  third  apsidal  chapel,  like  the  others, 
whilst  the  entrance  was  at  the  west.  This  archway  now 
leads  into  a  chapel  of  very  irregular  form,  part  of  which 
extends  over  the  porch  of  entrance,  in  the  arrangement 
of  which  one  may  trace  a  certain  kind  of  analogy  to  that 
of  the  cathedral,  though  it  is  perhaps  older.  West  of  the 
choir  is  a  nave,  somewhat  like  a  cone  in  plan,  and  sur- 
rounded by  an  aisle,  from  which  it  is  divided  by  arches 
supported  on  slender  shafts.  The  choir  has  a  square 
domical  vault,  and  the  chapel  over  the  porch  a  true  dome, 
the  pendentives  under  which  are  just  like  those  of  S. 
Fosca  at  Torcello.  The  apsidal  chapels  have  semi-domes 
and  the  rest  of  the  church  has  a  waggon-vault  of  very 
irregular  outline.  An  arcade  against  the  walls  of  the 
side  corresponds  with  that  between  the  aisle  and  the 
nave.  At  the  end  of  the  nave  is  the  tower,  which  was 
probably  built  at  a  slightly  later  date  than  the  main 
building.  The  whole  interior  appears  to  have  been 
[226] 


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richly  painted,  but  faint  indications  only  of  this  portion 
of  the  decoration  remain.  In  the  central  dome  there  is 
a  sitting  figure  of  our  Lord  on  the  east  side;  emblems  of 
the  evangelists  are  at  the  angles,  and  angels  and  sera- 
phim around  our  Lord.  Below  these  is  a  line  of  single 
figures,  six  on  each  side  —  the  four-and-twenty  elders 
—  and  below  this  again  are  subjects,  the  whole  combin- 
ing together  to  make  a  very  interesting  example  of  the 
treatment  of  the  Last  Judgement.  The  dome  of  the 
chapel  over  the  porch  is  also  painted  with  our  Lord, 
angels,  and  the  evangelists. 

The  walls  generally  are  built  of  lava,  though  a  little 
white  stone  is  used  in  the  steeple  and  for  the  sculptured 
capitals. 

The  columns  are  very  small,  averaging  eight  inches  in 
diameter,  and  decrease  considerably  in  diameter  from 
the  base  to  the  capital.  The  dimensions  are  exceedingly 
small,  the  central  choir  being  only  thirteen  feet  six 
inches  in  diameter,  and  the  spaces  between  the  princi- 
pal columns  in  the  nave  varying  from  four  feet  to  four 
feet  nine  inches.  The  effect  is  rather  that  of  a  crypt, 
but,  in  spite  of  its  small  size,  it  is  solemn  and  religious. 

The  steeple  suggests  comparison,  in  some  respects, 
with  that  of  the  cathedral;  the  arches  are  built  with 
alternately  light  and  dark  voussoirs,  and  there  is  a 
peculiar  spire-light  rising  out  of  the  parapet,  as  to  the 
antiquity  of  which  I  have  my  doubts.^ 

The  only  part  in  which  any  rich  decoration  has  been 
introduced  is  the  front  of  the  porch.  It  has  a  semicir- 
cular arch,  trefoiled  above  a  horizontal  lintel.   The  walls 

^  The  spire-lights  in  the  cathedral  steeple  are  very  similar,  and 
the  same  form  is  seen  in  the  steeple  of  the  church  of  S.  Marie  des 
Chases,  in  Auvergne. 

[  227  ] 


are  richly  inlaid,  and  there  is  also  a  good  deal  of  sculp- 
ture. In  the  centre  division  of  the  trefoiled  tympanum 
is  an  Agnus  Dei,  and  there  are  figures  kneeling  and 
holding  chalices  within  the  cusps  on  either  side.  In  the 
five  divisions  of  the  arcaded  cornice  are  —  in  the  centre 
our  Lord,  on  His  right  S.  Mary  and  S.  John,  and  on 
His  left  S.  Michael  and  S.  Peter.  The  mosaic  is  exe- 
cuted with  black  tufa,  red  and  white  tiles,  and  a  light 
yellow  sandstone.  I  know  no  other  example  in  this  dis- 
trict of  the  use  of  tiles  for  inlaying,  though  M.  Mallay 
mentions  one  at  Merdogne  in  Auvergne,  which  he  says 
is  of  the  seventh  century,  though  his  dates  are  not  al- 
ways to  be  implicitly  trusted;  but  at  Lyon,  in  the  ex- 
tremely beautiful  Romanesque  domestic  building  called 
the  Manecanterie,  and  at  a  slightly  later  date  in  the 
church  of  Ainay,  in  the  same  city,  they  are  freely  used 
and  with  admirable  effect.  Odo  de  Gissey,  in  his  history 
of  Le  Puy,  published  in  a.d.  1619,  states  that  the  first 
stone  of  S.  Michel  was  laid  in  a.d.  965,  and  that  the 
church  was  completed  in  a.d.  984,  when  Guy  II.  was 
bishop  of  Le  Puy,  "as  one  may  learn  from  the  ancient 
charter  of  its  foundation,  and  from  other  manuscripts 
which  I  have  read."  Brother  Theodore,  in  his  Histoire 
de  VEglise  Angelique  de  Notre  Dame  du  Puy,  a.d.  1693, 
says  that  the  first  stone  was  laid  in  August,  962,  and  that 
his  statements  are  "derived  from  the  deed  for  the  foun- 
dation of  the  church,  and  from  the  book  of  obits  in 
the  cathedral."  These  dates,  if  they  refer  to  the  existing 
building,  can  only  do  so  to  the  central  portion  with  its 
apses;  the  nave  may  have  been  added  some  time  in  the 
eleventh  century,  and  the  steeple,  perhaps,  in  the  course 
of  the  twelfth. 

[228] 


At  the  foot  of  the  flight  of  steps  which  leads  up  to  the 
picturesque  entrance  of  this  little  chapel  are  the  remains 
of  a  small  detached  building,  probably  a  residence  for  a 
sacristan  or  priest. 

Very  near  the  Aiguille  of  S.  Michel  is  a  curious 
chapel.  It  is  an  octagon,  with  an  apse  projecting  from 
the  eastern  face,  the  octagon  covered  with  an  octagonal 
domical  vault,  and  the  apse  with  a  semi-dome.  The 
walls  are  arcaded  inside  and  out  below  the  vault,  the 
internal  arches  springing  from  engaged  shafts  in  the 
angles.  Some  of  the  arches  outside  are  cusped  in  the 
usual  way,  the  cusping  not  starting  from  the  cap  with  a 
quarter-circle,  but  with  a  half-circle,  the  same  as  all  the 
rest.  There  are  doors  in  the  west  and  north  sides,  with 
tympana  filled  in  with  mosaic,  and  the  wall  in  the  span- 
drels between  the  arches  outside  is  also  inlaid.  The  ex- 
terior of  the  apse  is  not  visible,  but  I  found,  on  making 
my  way  into  the  cottage  and  barn  built  against  it,  that 
it  is  perfect  and  undamaged.  The  popular  opinion  at 
Le  Puy  is  that  the  chapel  is  an  ancient  temple  of  Diana, 
a  fiction  which  a  minute's  examination  destroys.  M. 
Didron  maintains  that  it  was  a  mortuary  chapel,  and  he 
refers  to  the  chapel  of  S.  Croix,  at  Montmajour,  as 
an  example  akin  to  this.  M.  Merimee,  on  the  other 
hand,  says  that  the  Templars  had  property  in  the  Fau- 
bourg de  I'Aiguille,  and  compares  it  to  the  similar 
oratory  of  the  Templars  at  Metz,  and  he  might  have 
added  the  curious  Templars'  church  at  Laon  as  another 
case  in  point.^ 

This  concludes  my  notice  of  early  buildings  in  Le 

1  Also  the  octagonal  church,  surrounded  by  an  octagonal  cloister, 
of  the  Templars  at  Eunate  in  Navarre,  and  the  church  of  Vera  Cruz 
at  Segovia.  —  G.  G.  K. 

[229] 


Puy,  and  I  have  no  more  than  time  to  catalogue  the 
church  of  S.  Laurent,  famous  for  the  monument 
of  the  Constable  Duguesclin,  a  large  second-pointed 
building  of  poor  character,  and  very  Italian  in  its  plan 
and  design,^  and  with  an  enormous  sham  front;  the 
gabled  end  of  the  hospital  chapel,  with  its  fifteenth- 
century  bell-turret;  a  pretty  little  fountain,  and  a 
large  number  of  picturesque  houses  of  the  fifteenth 
and  sixteenth  centuries;  and  a  very  scanty  remnant  of 
a  gateway  at  the  bottom  of  the  town,  called,  I  think, 
the  Porte  de  Panessac,  against  the  proposed  destruction 
of  which  I  find  M.  Aymard  protesting  only  a  few  years 
back  in  the  Bulletin  Monumental. 

About  four  miles  to  the  north  of  Le  Puy,  close  to  the 
ruins  of  the  magnificent  castle  of  Polignac,  is  the  Roman- 
esque church  of  the  village.  This  is  parallel-triapsidal 
in  plan,  and  the  piers  are  planned,  as  are  those  in  the 
cathedral,  in  the  shape  of  a  cross,  with  columns  in  the 
re-entering  angles.  The  little  church  at  Monistrol  is  a 
good  example  of  the  Le  Puy  style  applied  to  a  very 
small  building;  and  the  church  at  Le  Monestier,  which 
has  many  features  of  similarity  to  the  cathedral  at  Le 
Puy,  and  is  rich  in  early  plate,  ought  not  to  be  forgotten, 
but  I  am  unable  to  speak  of  it  from  personal  inspection. 

I  will  now  turn  to  the  churches  of  Auvergne.  Though 
numerous,  they  are  so  much  alike  in  their  character, 
details,  and  design,  that  a  description  of  their  peculiar- 

^  The  elevation  of  one  bay  of  the  nave  of  this  church  is  almost 
exactly  the  same  as  that  of  S.  Petronio,  Bologna,  though  of  course 
on  a  very  reduced  scale.  The  plan  is  Italian  also,  the  nave  groining- 
compartments  being  square,  whilst  those  of  the  aisles  are  very 
oblong;  the  contrary  arrangement  is,  as  I  need  hardly  say,  almost 
invariable  in  northern  Gothic  plans. 

[230] 


ities  need  not  be  so  long  as  might  be  supposed.  These 
churches  all  lie  in  a  group  together,  Clermont-Ferrand 
being  their  geographical  centre,^  and  to  its  north  are 
Riom,  Volvic,  Menat,  Mozat,  and  Ennezat;  to  the 
east  Chauriat;  to  the  west  Royat  and  Orcival;  and  to 
the  south  S.  Nectaire,  S.  Saturnin,  and  Issoire. 

Beyond  the  bounds  of  the  province,  at  Brioude,  at 
Conques,  at  Toulouse,  and  in  the  church  of  S. 
Etienne  at  Nevers,  there  are,  among  many  others, 
examples  of  precisely  the  same  description  of  design 
and  construction.2 

It  will  be  well  to  describe  the  general  type  of  these 
churches,  and  then  give  a  few  notes  as  to  particular 
examples.  In  plan  they  consist  of  a  nave  and  aisles, 
western  narthex  and  steeple,  central  dome  and  steeple, 
transepts  with  apsidal  chapels  on  the  east,  and  apsidal 

^  The  cathedral  of  Clermont-Ferrand,  a  fine  fourteenth-century 
church,  is  said  to  have  been  originally  on  the  same  plan  as  Notre- 
Dame-du-Port;  excavations  have  proved  this  to  have  been  the  case. 
The  present  cathedral  is  almost  precisely  similar  in  plan  to  those 
of  Narbonne  and  Limoges  (see  Viollet-le-Duc,  Dictionnaire),  and 
is  said  to  have  been  commenced  in  a.d.  1248  by  Bishop  Hugues  de 
la  Tour. 

^  I  give  a  list  of  some  of  the  churches  which  either  belong  to  or 
illustrate  the  Auvergnat  type,  with  their  dates,  as  nearly  as  I  can 
ascertain  them:  —Conques,  completed  by  a.d.  1060.  S.  Etienne, 
Nevers,  commenced  a.d.  1063,  consecrated  a.d.  1097.  S.  Eutrope, 
Saintes,  consecrated  in  a.d.  1096.  S.  Genes,  a.d.  1016-a.d.  1120. 
S.  Front,  Perigueux,  A.D.  984  to  a.d.  1047.  Angouleme,  A.D. 
1109-1136.  Fontevrault,  a.d.  iioo.  S.  Hilaire,  Poitiers,  a.d. 
1049;  Moustier-neuf,  ditto,  a.d.  1069-1096;  S.  Radegonde,  ditto, 
A.D.  1099.  Riom  (S.  Amable),  A.D.  1077-1120.  S.  Sernin,  Tou- 
louse, circa  A.D.  1150.  Cluny,  commenced  A.D.  1089;  consecrated 
A.D.  1131.  Dorat  (Hte.  Vienne)  and  Benevent  (Creuse),  circa 
A.D.  1150-1200.  S.  Germain-des-Pres,  Paris,  consecrated  A.D. 
1163.  Le-Moutier  (suburb  of  Thiers),  A.D.  1016.  S.  Saturnin, 
Volvic,  Issoire,  S.  Nectaire,  N.-D.-du-Port,  Clermont,  circa  a.d. 
1080-1160.     Brioude,  circa  A.D.  1200.    Orcival. 

[231] 


choirs  with  the  aisles  continued  round  them,  and  four 
or  five  apsidal  chapels  round  the  aisle.  Under  the  choir 
is  sometimes  a  crypt,  in  which,  in  addition  to  the  columns 
under  the  columns  of  the  apse,  are  four  shafts  which 
were  intended  for  the  support  of  the  altar,  and  whose 
presence  certainly  seems  to  suggest  that  it  must  have 
bfeen  a  baldachin  and  not  merely  an  altar  that  they 
were  designed  to  support.^ 

The  naves  are  roofed  with  waggon-vaults,  either  with 
or  without  cross  ribs  below  them.  The  aisles  have 
quadripartite  vaults  without  ribs,  and  the  triforia  above 
them  are  roofed  with  a  continuous  half  barrel-vault, 
which  resists  the  thrust  of  the  vault  of  the  nave,  and  is, 
in  truth,  a  continuous  flying-buttress.  The  triforia 
galleries  are  lighted  with  small  windows,  and  this,  the 
only  light  analogous  to  a  clerestory,  being  entirely  inade- 
quate, the  effect  of  the  nave  roof  is  generally  very  gloomy. 
The  transepts  are  vaulted  with  barrel-vaults  like  the 
nave,  and  in  one  or  two  instances  are  divided  in  height 
by  a  sort  of  tribune  level  with  the  triforium.  At  Brioude. 
where  this  arrangement  is  seen,  there  is  an  original 
thirteenth-century  open  fireplace  in  the  tribune,  and  M. 
Merimee  ingeniously  suggests  that  the  noble  canons  of 
Brioude,  for  they  all  had  the  rank  of  Count,  were  in 
the  habit  of  hearing  mass  before  a  good  fire;  but  it  is 
fair  to  them  to  say  that  the  fireplace  is  in  the  east  wall, 
and  that  I  saw  no  signs  of  an  altar  near  it.   The  cross- 

1  St.  Gregory  of  Tours  (Hist.  Francorum)  says  that  in  a.d.  440 
a  church  was  erected  in  Clermont  by  the  Bishop  Namacius,  150 
feet  in  length,  60  feet  wide,  50  feet  high  from  the  seat  of  the  bishop 
to  the  vault;  a  circular  gallery  surrounded  the  choir,  and  on  each  side 
were  two  aisles  elegantly  constructed.  The  church  was  in  the 
form  of  a  cross,  had  42  windows,  70  columns,  and  8  doors. — L'Au- 
vergne  au  Moyen  Age. 

[232] 


ing  under  the  tower  is  generally  roofed  either  with  an 
octagonal  vault  or  with  a  circular  dome  with  an  opening 
in  the  centre.  To  resist  the  thrust  of  this  dome  on  the 
north  and  south  sides  the  upper  vaults  of  the  triforia  are 
continued  on  between  the  transepts  and  the  crossing,  or 
else  vaults  of  the  same  section  are  introduced  at  a  higher 
level,  where  the  central  dome  is  raised  (as  it  often  is) 
higher  than  the  barrel-roof  of  the  nave.  The  western 
steeple,  as  well  as  the  centre  lantern,  was  sometimes 
domed;  and  that  at  Brioude  is  a  most  valuable  example 
of  the  best  type  of  dome  in  the  district.  The  choirs  are 
vaulted  with  waggon-vaults  terminating  with  semi- 
domes,  and  the  apsidal  chapels  are  also  each  covered 
with  a  semi-dome.  The  columns  are  generally  square, 
with  half-columns  engaged  on  three,  and  sometimes  on 
four  sides,  the  latter  only  when  the  main  vault  of  the 
nave  has  transverse  ribs  below  it.  The  columns  round 
the  apse  are  circular,  and  detached  shafts  against  the 
apse  walls  carry  the  groining,  and  occasionally  shafts 
are  introduced  inside  and  outside  the  window-jambs  of 
the  choir.  In  the  nave  and  triforia,  the  windows  are 
generally  very  plain  with  a  label  containing  a  billet- 
moulding,  though  the  latter  have  sometimes,  as  at 
Notre- Dame-du -Port  and  Issoire,  jamb-shafts.  The 
capitals  of  the  columns  are  carved  with  great  richness, 
sometimes  with  foliage,  but  often  with  Scripture  sub- 
jects. At  S.  Nectaire,  for  instance,  perhaps  the  most 
elaborate  of  all  these  churches  in  this  respect  (M. 
Didron  is  my  authority),  the  capitals  round  the  apse 
have  subjects  from  the  New  Testament,  four  on  each 
capital.  Frequently  griffins  and  other  animals  are  carved, 
and  in  one  case,  at  Brioude,  is  a  demon  holding  an  open 
I  233  2 


book  on  which  is  written  the  sculptor's  name,  which 
does  not  seem  to  be  a  very  complimentary  arrangement. 
It  is  in  the  earlier  examples  that  sculpture  of  subjects 
and  figures  is  commonly  seen,  and,  as  the  style  developed 
more  towards  Gothic,  foliage  took  the  place  of  subjects. 
The  arcades  are  remarkable  for  their  generally  lofty 
proportions.  They  are  of  course  not  so  lofty  as  pointed 
arcades,  but  they  have  seldom,  if  ever,  the  heavy 
and  low  proportion  commonly  found  in  the  arcades  of 
Romanesque  buildings.  The  arches  are  generally  semi- 
circular, and  in  the  apses  stilted. 

The  walls  were  probably  covered  with  paintings  of 
Scripture  subjects.  At  Brioude  there  is  some  of  this 
decoration  remaining  in  a  chapel  dedicated  to  S.  Michael 
in  the  gallery  over  the  narthex.  The  semi-domes  of  the 
apsidal  chapels  in  this  church  were  also  richly  painted, 
and  in  one  of  them  traces  of  colour  exist  all  over  the 
window-jambs.  At  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  Clermont,  in 
cleaning  the  nave,  after  removing  seven  or  eight  coats 
of  whitewash,  considerable  traces  were  found  of  gild- 
ing on  the  capitals,  and  if  this  portion  of  the  church 
was  thus  highly  decorated,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  colouring  of  the  choir  was  at  least  equally 
sumptuous. 

A  stone  seat  is  in  some  cases  continued  all  round  the 
walls  of  the  apse  and  its  chapels  inside  and  out,  and  in 
one  or  two  cases  the  iron  grilles  still  remain.  The  only 
instance  of  the  old  pavement  that  I  saw  was  at  Brioude, 
where  it  is  composed  of  black  and  white  stone  in  cheq- 
uers; but  this  is  a  mere  fragment  and  of  poor  design. 

The  entrance  to  the  crypts  is  by  stairs  from  the 
transepts  or  crossing.  The  staircases  to  the  upper 
[234] 


portion  of  the  building  are  variously  placed.  At  Notre- 
Dame-du-Port  they  are  in  the  middle  of  the  north  end 
of  the  aisles;  at  Brioude,  in  the  transepts,  and  also  at 
the  west  end;  and  in  this  church,  an  enormous  wooden 
stair  leads  from  the  south  door  up  to  the  chapel  of  S. 
Michael  over  the  narthex. 

On  the  exterior  the  designs  are  as  much  alike  as  in 
the  interior.  The  aisle- walls  are  divided  into  bays  by 
pilasters,  above  which  arches  are  turned  over  the  aisle 
windows,  and  then  above  are  the  windows  lighting  the 
triforia,  which  are  generally  more  richly  decorated  than 
those  below,  and  form  part  of  an  arcade  with  carved 
capitals  and  moulded  bases.  The  walls  are  finished  by 
a  boldly-projecting  cornice  supported  on  large  corbels. 
The  transepts  are  buttressed  at  the  angles,  have  a  heavy 
engaged  column  in  the  centre,  from  which  two  arches 
spring,  within  which  are  pierced  two  windows;  above 
these  are  other  windows,  either  two  or  three  lights,  and 
the  gable  is  either  filled  in  with  mosiac  or  pierced  with 
more  windows.  It  is  on  the  exterior  of  the  apse  that 
the  main  effort  at  display  is  made,  and  the  more  ornate 
examples  of  the  style,  as  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  Issoire, 
and  Brioude,  are  singularly  rich  in  their  effort.  The  two 
former  examples  are  of  very  nearly  the  same  date  (about 
A.D.  1080  to  A.D.  1130) ;  the  latter  is  considerably  later 
(probably  circa  a.d.  1200).  I  will  describe  Notre-Dame- 
du-Port  first.  Here  the  transept-chapels  are  much 
lower  than  those  of  the  chancel,  and  the  latter  (four  in 
number)  have  cornices  below  the  cornice  of  the  aisle, 
and  gable  walls  are  raised  on  the  aisle  walls  to  receive 
their  roofs,  which  would  otherwise  run  back  to  the 
clerestory.  There  are  windows  between  each  of  the 
[235] 


chapels,  and  a  great  part  of  the  beauty  of  the  effect, 
both  internally  and  externally,  is  to  be  attributed  to 
this  fact.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  whole  arrangement  is 
not  a  modification  of  the  original  plan,  for  on  close  ex- 
amination I  found  that  the  labels  of  the  large  windows 
between  the  chapels  are  returned  and  mitre  with  another 
label  against  which  the  chapels  are  built,  and  which 
might  very  well  have  formed  part  of  an  arcade  pierced 
at  intervals  with  windows.  In  the  neighbourhood, 
about  half-way  between  Clermont  and  Issoire,  at  S. 
Saturnin,  there  is  a  church  precisely  similar  to  what  this 
would  have  been  without  its  chapels,  and  the  eccentric 
position  of  the  chapels  at  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  there 
being  none  opposite  the  centre,^  would  be  just  such  as 
would  have  been  rendered  necessary  if  it  had  been  de- 
sired to  add  them  after  the  work  had  progressed  some- 
what towards  completion.  In  any  case,  however,  there 
could  not  have  been  any  great  interval  of  time  between 
them,  and  probably  the  chapels  and  the  clerestory  are 
of  exactly  the  same  age.  The  whole  of  this  apse  is  full 
of  beautifully  inlaid  patterns,  made  with  red  and  black 
scoriae  and  white  stone.  The  enrichment  is  always  con- 
fined to  the  walls  above  the  springing  of  the  windows, 
and  does  not  generally  extend  quite  to  the  cornice. 
The  spaces  between  the  corbels  under  the  cornice  are 
inlaid  and  the  under  side  of  the  cornice  is  carved  with  a 
sunk  pattern  and  in  some  cases  appeared  to  me  to  have 
been  coloured.  Between  the  clerestory  windows  is 
precisely  the  same  arrangement  of  shafts  supporting  a 
flat  lintel  under  the  cornice  that  I  described  in  the  first 

^  S.  Hilaire  at  Poitiers  and  Angouleme  cathedral  have  only  four 
chapels. 

[236] 


portion  of  the  clerestory  of  Le  Puy,  and  here,  as  there, 
the  recessed  wall  is  all  inlaid. 

At  Issoire  the  general  scheme  is  precisely  similar. 
Here,  however,  a  square  chapel  juts  out  from  the  centre 
of  the  apse,  and  the  question  arises  whether  this  is  an 
original  arrangement.  The  suggestion  I  should  throw 
out  here,  as  at  Clermont,  would  be  that  this  is  the  only 
original  chapel,  and  that  the  others  were  added,  just  as 
those  at  that  place  may  have  been.  In  both  these 
churches  the  buttresses  are  alternately  rectangular  and 
circular,  and  the  latter  are  always  finished  with  carved 
capitals. 

S.  Julien,  at  Brioude,  is  an  example  of  a  later  date» 
but  it  adheres  closely  to  the  same  type,  save  that  there 
are  five  apsidal  chapels;  and  though  the  windows  are 
much  more  elaborate,  having  jamb-shafts  and  moulded 
arches,  and  being  arranged  in  a  regular  arcade  of  triplets 
in  the  clerestory,  there  is  much  less  positive  effect  of 
decoration  owing  to  the  comparatively  small  amount  of 
inlaying. 

The  churches  at  Brioude  and  Issoire  are  both  on  a 
much  larger  scale  and  generally  finer  than  Notre-Dame- 
du-Port. 

Lastly,  I  come  to  the  steeples  of  these  churches.  Of 
these  there  were  generally  one  or  two  at  the  west  end 
and  one  over  the  crossing.  I  believe  that  not  one  of 
those  over  the  narthex  now  remains,  though  two  or 
three  have  been  recently  rebuilt.  Those  at  the  crossing 
were  treated  in  a  singular  manner.  The  eastern  wall  of 
the  transept,  carried  up  much  above  the  height  of  the 
walls  of  the  apse,  forms  an  enormous  mass  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  steeple,  and  is  arched  and  pierced  with  win- 
[237] 


dows,  or  inlaid.  The  steeples  seem  generally  to  have 
been  octagonal,  and  to  have  consisted  of  two  stages 
arcaded  and  sometimes  shafted  at  the  angles,  and  capped 
with  stone  spires  sloping  at  an  angle  of  about  sixty 
degrees.  The  steeple  at  Issoire  is  quite  modern,  and  I 
believe  no  authority  existed  for  it.  That  of  Notre- 
Dame-du-Port  is  also  new,  the  finish  having  been  a 
bulbous  slated  erection,  with  an  open  lantern  at  the 
top,  only  a  few  years  ago.  Ancient  examples,  more  or 
less  perfect,  still  exist  at  S.  Saturnin,  Ennezat,  Orcival, 
and  S.  Nectaire,  and  all  of  these  are  octagonal.  These 
churches  tally  with  most  other  early  churches  in  this 
feature  of  central  steeples. 

I  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  roofs.  In  those  which  I 
was  able  to  examine,  they  are  covered  with  slabs  of 
stone,  supported  from  the  stone  roofs  without  any  use 
of  timber  whatever.  The  ridges  are  also  of  stone,  elab- 
orately carved,  and  the  whole  construction  seems  to  be 
as  imperishable  in  its  scheme  as  anything  I  know  of  the 
kind. 

The  churches  of  the  Auvergnat  type  present  so  little 
variety,  and  were  built  within  so  short  a  space  of  time, 
that  a  description  of  each  of  them  in  succession  would 
be  wearisome.  Of  course  there  are  some  variations. 
S.  Amable  at  Riom,  for  instance,  has  the  main 
arches  pointed,  whilst  the  triforium  arcade  is  round- 
arched,  and  the  vault  of  the  nave  is  also  pointed  instead 
of  round.  The  vault  of  the  nave  of  Issoire  is  another 
example  of  a  pointed  vault.  At  S.  Nectaire  the 
usual  piers  in  the  nave  have  given  way  to  columns.  At 
Brioude,  the  style  reached  its  perfection,  and,  indeed,  I 
know  few  effects  more  striking  in  every  way  than  that 
[238] 


of  the  aisles  round  the  choir;  the  roof,  constructed  as  a 
regular  barrel-vault  and  without  any  ribs,  seems  to  be 
true  in  principle,  and  to  carry  the  eye  on  even  more 
agreeably  than  our  ordinary  Gothic  vaulting  of  circular 
aisles,  in  which  the  eye  is  often  distracted  by  numbers 
of  conflicting  lines  of  ribs.  The  wall  arcades  between  the 
chapels  recall  the  peculiar  form  of  trefoil  to  which  I  have 
before  had  to  refer,  and  it  is  again  met  in  the  triforium 
of  the  south  side  of  Notre-Dame-du-Port. 

The  doorways  appear  to  be  of  two  kinds;  one  enriched 
with  sculpture,  the  other  with  inlaid  work.  Of  the 
former  the  south  door  of  Notre-Dame-du-Port  is  a  fine 
example.  The  opening  is  square,  covered  with  a  pedi- 
ment-like lintel,  on  which  are  sculptured  in  low  relief 
the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  the  Presentation  in  the 
Temple,  and  the  Baptism  of  our  Lord.  Above  the  lintel 
is  a  round  arch,  under  which  is  a  figure  of  our  Lord, 
seated,  with  a  seraph  on  either  side.  Against  the  wall, 
below  the  lintel  on  each  side  of  the  door,  are  figures  of 
Isaiah  and  S.  John  the  Baptist.  In  the  much-altered 
church  at  Mozat,^  near  Riom,  is  a  door  of  a  somewhat 
similar  kind,  and  both  are  very  like  the  doorway  in  the 
north  transept  of  Le  Puy.  At  S.  Nectaire  is  an  ex- 
ample of  a  door  with  the  tympanum  filled  in  with  mosaic. 

The  masonry  is  usually  of  wrought  stones  squared,  but 
not  very  neatly  put  together.  M.  Mallay,  the  architect 
of  Clermont,  who  has  restored  some  of  them,  ascer- 
tained the  curious  fact  that  the  stone-masons  who 
wrought  the  stone  for  the  arches,  and  wherever  else 

^  At  Mozat  is  a  magnificent  shrine  of  copper,  enamelled,  and  at 
S.  Nectaire  a  variety  of  precious  relics,  crosses,  reliquaries,  and 
the  like,  of  which  M.  Merimee  has  given  a  list. 

[239] 


superior  work  was  required,  marked  their  stones  with 
the  usual  mason's  mark,  whilst  those  who  wrought  the 
stones  for  plain  walling,  jambs,  and  quoins,  made  no 
mark;  and  he  found  that  precisely  the  same  masons' 
marks  occurred  at  Issoire  and  Notre-Dame-du-Port ; 
whilst  the  details  and  plan  of  Orcival,  a  few  miles  south- 
west of  Clermont,  are  again  so  identical  with  both  of 
these,  as  to  leave  little  room  for  doubt  that  it  was  exe- 
cuted by  the  same  workmen;  and  I  found  another 
evidence  of  the  way  in  which  details  were  repeated,  in 
some  fine  iron-work  in  the  south  door  of  Brioude,  which 
occurs  again  at  Orcival. 

The  arches  are  generally  built  with  small  stones  of 
the  same  size  and  of  even  number,  so  as  not  to  allow  of 
a  keystone.  M.  Mallay  says  that  the  mosaic  work  in  the 
walls  of  these  churches  had  wide  joints  of  red  mortar, 
projecting  from  the  face  of  the  wall.  These  mortar 
joints  in  the  restored  work  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  bad 
modern  device,  and  I  think  that  the  evidence  in  their 
favor  ought  to  be  very  strong  to  be  convincing. 

The  proportions  of  these  churches  are  very  similar. 
At  Issoire,  the  width  from  centre  of  aisle  wall  to  centre 
of  nave  column  is  one-fourth  of  the  whole  width,  equal 
to  the  width  from  centre  of  nave  columns,  and  to  the 
diameter  of  the  chapels  in  the  apse,  and  one-half  the 
height  of  the  aisle,  and  one-fourth  that  of  the  nave. 
The  height  from  floor  to  ridge  is  equal  to  the  extreme 
width  at  base  of  walls.  At  Notre-Dame-du-Port  the 
same  kind  of  proportion  exists,  but  from  the  outside  of 
the  buttress  to  the  outside  of  the  nave  pier  is  one-fourth 
of  the  whole  width. 

I  must  now,  before  I  conclude,  say  a  few  words  as  to 
[240] 


the  date  of  these  churches,  for  which  M.  Mallay  ^  is 
inclined  to  claim  rather  too  great  an  age.  He  dates  most 
of  them  (conjecturally)  in  the  tenth  century,  though  he 
admits  that  buildings  in  which  the  pointed  arch  is  intro- 
duced may  be  as  late  as  the  twelfth  century;  and  he 
considers  the  date  of  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  Clermont, 
as  circa  a.d.  863  to  868.  He  founds  this  belief  on  the 
fact  that  no  lava  was  used  in  its  construction,  and  that 
the  mosaics  in  its  walls  were  formed  of  scoriae  found  on 
the  surface  of  the  soil.  He  considers  that  lava  was  not 
used  until  the  eleventh  century,  but  he  must  also  prove 
(which  he  has  not  done)  that  stone  was  never  used  in 
Auvergne  after  the  lava  had  once  been  admitted.  M. 
Mallay  depends  no  doubt  to  some  extent  on  the  admitted 
date  of  the  nave  of  S.  Amable,  at  Riom,  where  the 
main  arches  are  pointed,  as  a.d.  1077.  But  the  presence 
of  the  pointed  arch  proves  nothing  as  to  date,  for  we 
see  it  long  before  this  in  S.  Front,  at  Perigueux;  and 
in  every  other  respect  there  is  no  doubt  that  S. 
Amable  presents  every  evidence  of  being  older  than 
Notre-Dame-du-Port,  and  others  of  these  churches,  in 
which  none  but  round  arches  occur. 

On  either  side  of  Auvergne  there  are  other  churches, 
of  precisely  the  same  character  as  to  plan  and  mode  of 
construction,  the  dates  of  which  are  pretty  certain. 
One  is  S.  ^tienne,  at  Nevers,  which  was  commenced  in 
A.D.  1063,  and  completed  and  consecrated  on  the  13th 
December  1097.  The  plan  of  this  church  is  similar  in 
nearly  every  respect  to  that  of  the  Auvergne  churches. 
But,  so  far  as  one  may  judge  of  date  from  style,  I  should 

^  See  M.  Mai  lay's  Essai  sur  les  ^glises  Romanes  et  Romano- 
Byiantines  du  departement  du  Puy-de-Ddme.    Moullns,  1838. 

[241] 


have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  this  church  must  be 
older  than  either  Issoire  or  Notre-Dame-du-Port.  It  is 
ruder  in  character,  there  is  very  little  sculpture  on  the 
capitals,  which  are  mostly  a  sort  of  rude  imitation  of 
Doric,  and  in  the  transepts  there  are  not  only  round 
arches,  but  also  some  straight-sided. 

At  Conques,  south  of  Auvergne,  is  another  church  on 
the  same  plan  as  S.  Etienne,  Nevers,  in  almost  every 
respect,  which  there  is  little  doubt  was  completed  in 
the  first  half  of  the  eleventh  century,  by  the  founder 
Abbot  Odalric.  Then  again  to  the  west  there  is  the 
church  of  Moustier-neuf,  Poitiers,  commenced  in  a.d. 
1069,  and  consecrated  in  a.d.  1096,  which  has  a  chevei 
evidently  formed  upon  the  same  type  as  Conques; 
and  at  S.  Hilaire,  in  the  same  city,  consecrated  in 
A.D.  1069,  whilst  the  ground-plan  of  the  chevet  is  just 
the  same  as  that  of  Conques,  the  nave  columns  are  analo- 
gous, there,  to  the  half  barrel-vaults  of  the  triforium 
in  Auvergne.  Now  none  of  these  churches  is  earlier 
than  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century,  and  yet  it  is 
hardly  credible  that  a  province  shut  in  as  Auvergne  was 
should  have  received  a  perfect  and  complete  new  style, 
or  invented  one  and  carried  it  to  the  degree  of  finish 
and  perfection  at  which  it  had  arrived  when  Notre-Dame- 
du-Port  was  erected,  without  our  being  able  to  trace, 
somewhere,  the  source  from  which  it  was  developed.  I 
believe,  however,  that  its  origin  may  be  traced  if  we  ex- 
amine carefully  the  architecture  of  the  church  of  S. 
Front  at  Perigueux,  commenced  in  a.d.  984  and  com- 
pleted in  a.d.  1047.  This  church,  founded  on  the  same 
type  as,  if  not  copied  from  St.  Mark's,  Venice,^  exercised 
^  St.  Mark's,  Venice,  was  commenced  in  a.d.  977. 
[242] 


a  vast  direct  influence  on  the  architecture  of  the  day. 

It  is  seen  most  clearly  in  churches  which  are,  like  itself, 

cruciform,  without  aisles,  and  covered  with  domes.    The 

churches   of  Auvergne,  and  those  other  examples   to 

which  I  have  referred,  seem  to  me  to  be  clearly  derived 

from  S.  Front,  or  from  the   Eastern  models  on  which 

it  too  was  founded.    The  east  end  of  St.  Mark's  presents 

a  circular  wall,  with  a  succession  of  semicircular  recesses 

or    apses    in   its  thickness.     S.    Sophia  contains  the 

same  feature,  though  differently  treated.    The  Roman 

circular  buildings  which  have  so  much  in  common  with 

early  Byzantine  architecture   have   the  same  feature; 

and  S.  Vitale,  Ravenna,  whether  it  is  Romanesque  or 

Byzantine  in  its  origin,  is  planned  in  a  similar  way.   The 

architect  of  S.  Front  evidently  copied  his  apses  from 

these  models,  only  converting  the  recesses  of  St.  Mark's 

into  chapels  projecting  from  the  walls.^    The  Auvergne 

architects  attempted  to  combine  the  plan  of  the  basilica, 

with  its  nave  and  aisles,  with  the  features  which  were 

seen  at  S.  Front.    They   retained    its   external   wall 

and  projecting  chapels,  therefore,  but  placed  within 

them  the  cluster  of  columns  round  the  apse  forming  an 

aisle  between  the  chapels  and  the  choir.    By  this  simple 

and   natural   modification   of   the   S.    Front   plan    to 

meet  the  necessities  of  their  triple-aisled  churches  they 

at  once  invented,  one  may  almost  say,  the  perfect 

French  chevet.     I  know  no  other  churches  in  France 

of  the  same  age  which  appear  to  have  suggested  so 

much  in  this  respect;    and  you  will  realize  it  if  you 

compare   their    plans  with,   among   others,   those   of 

^  Plans  (to  a  uniform  scale)  of  S.  Mark's  Venice,  and  of  S. 
Front,  Perigueux,  are  given  in  Transactions,  Vol.  IV.  n.s.  Illustn. 
xxviii.,  pp.  172-173. 

[243] 


Bourges  cathedral,  S.  Pierre  at  Bourges,  S.  Martin  at 
Etampes,  Chartres  cathedral,  the  destroyed  church  of 
S.  Martin  at  Tours,  and  finally  what  is,  I  think, 
almost  the  best  complete  Gothic  plan,  that  of  Rouen 
cathedral.  In  every  one  of  these  we  see  the  surrounding 
aisle  lighted  by  windows  between  the  chapels,  and  the 
chapels  are  distinct  and  well-separated  on  the  exterior, 
precisely  as  in  these  older  churches  in  Auvergne.  These 
buildings,  therefore,  have  great  value,  not  only  as  illus- 
trating a  chapter  of  the  history  of  our  art,  but  because 
the  chapter  which  they  do  illustrate  is  just  one  of  the 
most  interesting  I  can  conceive;  being  that  which  ex- 
plains how  and  by  what  steps  Gothic  architecture,  of 
which,  as  our  national  style,  we  are  so  justly  proud,  was 
developed  from  the  noble  architecture  of  the  old  Romans 
and  Greeks,  an  architecture  to  which  we  owe,  among 
other  things,  this  great  debt  of  gratitude,  that  it  natur- 
ally led  up  to,  and  rendered  possible,  a  Westminster,  a 
Chartres,  an  Amiens,  and  all  the  other  glories  of  our 
Christian  architecture. 

You  will  have  gathered  that  there  are  many  similar 
features  in  the  churches  of  the  two  provinces  which  I 
have  been  describing.  They  are  shortly  these:  vaults 
and  quasi-domes  alike,  and  carried  on  the  same  kind  of 
squinches  or  pendentives;  the  decoration  with  mosaics 
and  its  detail;  the  design  and  treatment  of  doors,  either 
sculptured  or  inlaid;  the  form  of  trefoil  cusping  of 
arches,  character  of  mouldings,  sculpture,  and  decora- 
tion with  painting,  all  of  these  are  the  same  throughout 
both  districts.  The  only  marked  difference,  and  it  is 
important,  is  in  the  ground-plan,  the  cathedral  of  Le 
Puy  having  no  chevet,  but  an  east  end  derived  from 
C  244  ] 


Romanesque  rather  than  Byzantine  precedents;  and  the 
other  churches  in  its  neighbourhood  are  generally  simi- 
lar in  their  plan. 

There  are  two  important  heads  of  my  subject  to  be 
shortly  discussed  before  I  conclude.  One  of  them  refers 
to  roofing;  the  other  to  coloured  decoration.  First,  as 
to  roofing.  I  have  already  explained  how  this  was  exe- 
cuted; let  us  now  consider  why  the  modes  which  we 
see  were  adopted.  At  S.  Front  the  experiment  was 
tried  of  covering  a  nave  and  transepts  with  a  succession 
of  domes  resting  on  pendentives,  and  supported  on 
pointed  arches  spanning  the  nave.  These  domes  were 
the  only  covering  of  the  church,  and  were  visible  on  the 
outside  as  well  as  on  the  inside.  At  Conques,  the  archi- 
tect, unable  to  carry  domes  on  the  comparatively  deli- 
cate piers  which  were  all  that  were  required  for  the 
division  of  a  nave  from  its  aisles,  contrived  a  barrel- 
vault  for  his  nave,  the  thrust  of  which  was  resisted  by  the 
half  barrel-vault  of  the  triforium;  a  device  not  improb- 
ably obtained  from  Byzantine  churches:  for  if  we  com- 
pare the  section  of  S.  Sophia  with  that  of  the  cross- 
ing and  central  dome  of  Notre-Dame-du-Port,  we  shall 
find  the  semi-domes  affording  abutments  for  the  great 
domes  in  the  former,  absolutely  identical  in  their  section 
with  the  half  barrel-vault,  which  forms  the  abutment 
on  the  north  and  south  sides  of  the  central  dome  of  the 
latter.^    But  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  any  light  for  a 

^  Mr.  Fergusson  gives  a  section  of  a  cliurch  at  Granson  on  the 
Lake  of  NeufchStel,  in  which  the  aisles  and  nave  are  roofed  in 
the  same  way  as  at  Conques  and  in  the  Auvergne  churches.  He 
says  that  the  date  of  this  church  is  the  end  of  the  eighth  or  beginning 
of  the  ninth  century,  but  I  do  not  know  what  his  authority  for 
this  very  early  date  is. 

[245] 


clerestory  roofed  and  supported  in  this  fashion,  and  one 
is  rather  disposed  to  wonder  how  it  was  that  so  many 
churches  should  have  been  built  on  the  same  gloomy 
scheme.  It  was,  no  doubt,  because  in  that  part  of 
France  wooden  roofs  were  thought  to  be  undesirable,  and 
no  other  economical  way  was  seen  of  combining  the 
nave  and  aisles  with  what  was  intended  to  be  an  indes- 
tructible stone  roof.  I  need  hardly  say  that  at  the  same 
period,  in  the  north  of  France,  in  Normandy,  and  in 
England,  the  nave  was  seldom,  if  ever,  roofed  with  any- 
thing but  timber,  and  the  aisles  only  were  vaulted  in 
stone. 

At  Tournus,  on  the  Saone,  another  device  was  adopted 
to  serve  the  same  end  as  the  Auvergne  roof,  but  admit- 
ting of  a  clerestory:  this  was  the  covering  of  the  nave 
with  a  succession  of  barrel-vaults  at  right  angles  to  the 
length  of  the  church,  and  supported  on  bold  transverse 
arches.  But  I  doubt  whether  it  was  ever  repeated  on 
a  nave,  though  there  are  several  examples  of  aisles  thus 
roofed;  ^  and  it  was,  no  doubt,  ugly  and  ungainly.  The 
Le  Puy  architect  devised  yet  another  plan,  which  com- 
bined to  some  extent  all  the  others,  and  this  was,  as  I 
have  explained,  a  succession  of  domical  vaults,  which, 
while  it  was  much  lighter  and  more  practicable  (owing 
in  part  to  the  difference  of  scale)  than  the  S.  Front 
plan  of  a  series  of  genuine  cupolas,  achieved,  neverthe- 
less, much  of  the  effect  that  was  there  gained.  A  very 
small  portion  only  of  the  weight  of  the  vault  exerted  a 
direct  lateral  thrust,  and  it  was  possible,  therefore,  to 
erect  such  a  roof  upon  a  clerestory;    and  though  the 

1  The  Abbaye-aux-Hommes,  Caen,  has  its  aisles  roofed  with 
transverse  barrel-vaults. 

[246] 


transverse  arches  limit  the  height  of  the  building  in 
one  respect,  in  another  there  is  no  question  that  the 
height  is  apparently  much  increased;  for  in  looking 
down  the  interior  it  is  impossible  ever  to  see  the  apex  of 
any  of  the  domes,  and  the  vault  lost  behind  the  trans- 
verse arches  gains  immensely  in  mystery  and  infinity, 
so  as  to  produce  the  effect  of  a  larger  and  loftier  build- 
ing than  the  reality.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  dis- 
advantages were  great :  the  piers  between  the  nave  and 
its  aisles  were  so  large  as  to  render  the  aisles  nearly 
useless;  and  I  can  hardly  wonder,  therefore,  that  the 
example  set  here  was  not  generally,  if,  indeed,  at  all 
followed. 

It  is  doubtful  where  the  kind  of  vault  used  at  Le  Puy 
was  first  devised.  The  central  dome  of  S.  Michel 
de  I'Aiguille  is,  perhaps,  the  oldest  of  all,  and  this  is, 
in  fact,  a  square  dome,  if  one  may  use  the  expression. 
The  octagonal  dome-vaults  of  the  cathedral  are  prob- 
ably a  little  later,  but  that  over  the  crossing  of  the 
church  of  Ainay  at  Lyon  may  possibly  be  older.  A 
comparison  will  make  it  evident  that  one  is  copied 
from  the  other;  and  if  the  Le  Puy  vault  was  derived 
from  Lyon,  it  becomes  possible  to  make  the  important 
inference  that  it  was  an  Eastern  influence  travelling 
up  the  Rhone  and  distinct  from  that  which  is  seen 
at  Perigueux,  to  which  we  owe  this  kind  of  domed 
roof.  Further  evidence  of  this  is  found  in  the  pen- 
dentives  of  the  dome  at  Brioude,^  which  are  identical 
in  intention  with  the  plan  of  the  church  of  SS.  Sergius 

*  I  ought  to  mention  that  this  dome  and  the  western  part  of 
S.  Julien  at  Brioude  are  much  older  than  the  choir,  to  which 
I  have  before  referred  in  speaking  of  the  date  of  the  church. 

[247] 


and  Bacchus,  at  Constantinople,  and  yet  quite  unlike 
the  kind  of  pendentive  common  in  churches  of  the 
S.  Front  type.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  Le  Puy  and 
Ainay  pendentive  reduced  to  the  very  simplest  condi- 
tions. The  invention  of  the  flying-buttress  adum- 
brated in,  and  possibly  suggested  by,  the  quadrant 
vaults  of  Auvergne,  finally  stopped  these  various  en- 
deavors after  new  forms  of  roofs,  and  set  men  to  work 
to  see  how  it  might  most  readily  be  made  to  serve  the 
boldest  and  most  airy  system  of  design  and  construc- 
tion; and  in  the  rage  for  these,  that  old  system  of  roof- 
ing with  domes,  which  had  been,  so  far  as  is  known, ^ 
first  tried  in  France  at  Perigueux,  and  had  afterward 
spread  with  such  rapidity  over  a  very  large  district, 
though  with  many  modifications  and  variations,  was 
entirely  ignored  or  forgotten.  Is  it  well  that  we  too 
should  ignore  it?  It  is  clear  that  the  disciples  of  the 
Gothic  school  may  claim  it  as  their  own  with  just  as 
much  truth  as  any  other  school  can;  and  in  some  form 
or  other  it  is  often  so  attractive,  so  majestic  on  a  large 
scale,  so  impressive  even  on  a  small  scale,  that  few  of 
us  who  have  much  work  to  do  should  altogether  eschew 
all  use  of  it,  or  treat  it  as  though  it  were  the  exclusive 
property  of  the  architects  of  Classic  and  Renaissance 
buildings.  I  do  not  feel,  however,  as  most  who  write 
on  the  subject  seem  to  do,  that  our  domes  must  invari- 

1  This  qualification  is  necessary,  for  the  curious  evidence  which 
M.  Verneilh  has  given  of  the  existence  in  the  tenth  century  of  a 
Venetian  colony  at  Limoges  would  be  enough  to  make  it  probable 
that,  though  S.  Front  is  the  earliest  complete  example  extant  of 
a  French  domed  church,  others  may  have  been  built  before  it 
and  that  some  of  those  which  M.  Verneilh  supposes  to  have  been 
derived  from  S.  Front  may  really  have  been  derived  more  directly 
from  the  East. 

[248] 


THE  WESTERN   PORCH,  SAUMUR 


ably  be  supported  on  what  are  called  true  pendentives. 
I  think  they  are  not  beautiful,  and  I  do  not  see  that 
they  are  especially  scientific.  The  S.  Front  penden- 
tives are  mere  corbellings  out  of  the  wall,  and  in  truth 
only  imitations  of  pendentives.  At  S.  Mark's  they  are 
formed  with  a  succession  of  arches  of  brick  work  across 
the  angle  of  the  dome,  though  this  construction  is  not 
visible,  and  these,  I  suppose,  are  all  wrong;  but  they  are 
very  similar  in  their  intention  to  the  kind  of  pendentive 
which  I  have  had  to  illustrate  to-night,  and  which  is  in 
truth  much  more  Gothic  and  picturesque  in  its  character 
than  the  true  pendentive,  for  it  admits  of  any  amount 
of  decorative  sculpture,  and  is  really  precisely  similar 
in  its  object  to  the  squinches  under  our  own  English 
spires.^ 

I  will  add  but  a  few  words  as  to  the  constructional 
polychromy  which  distinguishes  the  exterior  of  the 
churches  throughout  this  volcanic  district.  So  far  as  I 
have  seen,  it  was  never,  save  in  Le  Puy  cathedral, 
admitted  into  the  interior,^  and  this  is  much  to  be  re- 
gretted, because  it  seems  that  the  vaults  of  their  naves, 
the  domes  of  their  crossings,  and  the  semi-domes  of 
their  sanctuaries,  would  have  afforded  most  admirable 

1  There  is  no  end  to  the  diversity  of  the  countries  in  which  they 
are  found.  In  the  cathedral  at  Worms  there  are  squinches  formed 
by  semi-domes.  In  S.  Nicodime  at  Athens  they  are  identical 
with  those  of  S.  6tienne  at  Nevers,  and  the  same  form  is  re- 
peated in  the  domical  vault  of  the  steeple  at  Auxerre  cathedral. 
At  Notre- Dame-du-Port,  Clermont,  the  dome  is  circular,  but  the 
squinches  below  are  octagonal  in  plan,  and  the  circle  (which  is  not, 
however,  a  true  circle)  is  set  upon  the  octagon. 

'  This  statement  must  of  course  be  made  with  caution,  inas- 
much as  the  invariable  whitewashing  of  the  interior  makes  it  very 
difficult  to  say  what  was  the  exact  nature  of  the  decorations  with 
which  they  were  adorned. 

[249] 


fields  for  this  kind  of  decoration.  As  I  have  stated,  the 
walls  were  once  covered  with  painting,  and  as  long  as 
this  existed  a  mosaic  of  black  and  white  and  dull  red 
would  have  been  valueless;  but  now  that  the  iconoclast, 
the  whitewasher,  and  the  restorer  have  done  their  worst, 
the  want  of  some  decoration  on  the  otherwise  bald  sur- 
face of  the  vaults  is  painfully  felt  everywhere.  Exter- 
nally the  coloured  materials  are  used  in  two  ways; 
sometimes  the  whole  of  the  wall  is  built  of  the  dark 
volcanic  products,  and  patterns  are  obtained  by  the 
occasional  use  of  white  stone  or  by  alternate  courses  of 
this  and  the  darkest  scoriae  that  can  be  found.  Or  else 
the  walls  generally  are  built  of  stone,  and  the  patterns 
only  formed  with  the  dark  material.  Here,  too,  as  is 
the  case  in  all  old  examples  of  coloured  constructions 
with  which  I  have  ever  met,  the  colours  follow  the  nat- 
ural course  of  the  construction.  At  Le  Puy,  for  instance, 
the  courses  are  alternately  light  and  dark,  producing 
bold  horizontal  bands  of  colour.  The  arch  stones  are 
continued  generally  in  one  line  of  colour  all  across  an 
arch,  even  when  it  consists  of  several  orders,  and  from 
the  arch  on  into  the  wall.  The  bands  of  ornament  are 
similarly  arranged  in  horizontal  stripes,  generally  placed 
where  they  will  dignify  and  give  value  to  some  very 
prominent  architectural  member.  They  never  occur 
below  the  line  of  the  springing  of  an  arcade,  and  are 
richest  under  cornices  and  between  their  corbels.  And 
when  we  consider  the  date  at  which  this  inlaid  work 
was  executed,  and  compare  it  with  what  we  know  of 
our  own  art  at  the  same  period,  or,  indeed,  with  that  of 
any  other  portion  of  the  country  which  is  now  France, 
we  cannot  too  highly  extol  its  delicacy  and  grace  and 
[250] 


its  carefulness  of  design  and  execution.  I  believe  that 
we  may  regard  the  whole  of  the  work  in  Velay  and 
Auvergne  as  that  of  native  artists.  The  detail  of  sculp- 
ture is,  when  compared  with  such  work  as  is  to  be  found 
in  Provence,  exceedingly  rude.  It  is  vigorous,  indeed, 
but  wanting  in  that  extreme  delicacy  and  refinement 
which  marks  the  work  of  the  early  Provengal  artists. 

Were  I  to  attempt  to  say  anything  about  the  buildings 
of  a  later  date,  it  would  be  impossible  to  do  more  than 
give  a  catalogue,  which  would  be  as  unintelligible  as  it 
would  be  tedious.  I  will  only  say,  therefore,  on  this 
head,  that  Clermont  cathedral  well  deserves  careful 
study,  and  is  rich  in  very  fine  glass;  that  at  Montf er- 
rand may  be  seen  as  large  a  collection  of  mediaeval 
houses  of  all  dates  as  in  almost  any  small  town  that  I 
know;  that  Riom  possesses  a  fine  S.  Chapelle;  and  that 
in  the  abbey  of  La  Chaise-Dieu  is  still  preserved  a  very 
rare  and  complete  series  of  tapestries  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  Besides  these,  a  large  number  of  articles  of 
church-plate  are  to  be  found  scattered  up  and  down 
in  the  village  churches,  and  all  this  goodly  store  of 
antiquities  is  set  before  you  in  a  province  whose  phys- 
ical features  are  so  full  of  interest  and  beauty  as  in 
themselves  to  make  a  journey  through  Velay  and  Au- 
vergne one  which  none  will  repent  having  undertaken. 


[251] 


APPENDIX 

I.  S.  Mary's,  Stone 
II.  Churches  in  Northern  Germany 

I.  Lubeck 
II.  Naumburg 

III.  Erfurt  and  Marburg 

IV.  Munster  and  Soest 

V.  German  Pointed  Architecture 


I 

SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  S.  MARY, 
STONE,  NEAR  DARTFORD 

(From  the  papers  of  the  Kent  Archxological  Society,  in  Archseologia 
Cantiana,  1860) 

HAVING  given  these  preliminary  notes,  illustrative  of  the  history 
of  the  church,  it  will  be  well  now  to  give  a  detailed  archi- 
tectural description  of  the  fabric,  illustrated,  as  far  as  may  be,  by  the 
discoveries  which  have  been  made  in  the  course  of  its  restoration.^ 

The  church  appears  to  have  consisted  at  first  of  a  chancel,  nave 
with  north  and  south  aisles,  western  tower  with  the  aisles  prolonged 
on  either  side  of  it,  and  western  porch.  The  only  subsequent  addi- 
tions were,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  a  small  vestry  on  the  north 
side  of  the  east  bay  of  the  chancel,  and  in  the  sixteenth  century 
the  Wilshyre  chantry,  in  the  space  between  the  vestry  and  the  east 
wall  of  the  north  aisle.  In  the  fourteenth  century  (probably  during 
the  bishopric  of  Haymo  de  Hethe)  the  windows  at  the  west  end  of 
the  nave  and  aisles,  and  that  in  the  west  bay  of  the  south  wall, 
were  inserted;  and  at  the  same  time  the  tower-piers  were  altered. 
Probably  they  were,  like  the  other  piers  throughout  the  church, 
exceedingly  delicate,  and  were  thought  to  be  not  sufficiently  solid 
to  carry  the  weight  of  the  steeple;  but  at  any  rate  it  is  clear  that 
the  piers,  with  their  capitals,  are  not  earlier  than  circa  a.d.  1350, 
whilst  the  arches  have  earlier  mouldings,  and  are  of  the  same  char- 
acter as  the  rest  of  the  church.  It  was  at  the  same  time  that  addi- 
tional support  was  given  to  the  eastern  piers  of  the  tower,  by  the 
addition  of  bold  flying  buttresses,  spanning  the  aisles,  and  visible 
only  on  the  inside  of  the  church.  The  staircase  to  the  tower,  placed 
against  the  south-west  angle,  appears  to  me  to  have  been  added 
at  the  same  time;  whilst  the  upper  part  of  the  tower  retains  nothing 

1  The  subject  of  this  paper,  the  probable  identity  of  the  architect 
of  S.  Mary's  with  that  of  Westminster,  interested  Street  greatly, 
and  he  refers  to  it  often.  The  careful  description  of  conscientious 
restoration  has  an  interest  for  us  as  well.  I  have  therefore  reprinted 
the  greater  part  of  it  without  troubling  the  reader  by  indicating  the 
trifling  omissions. — .(5-.<^  f^. 

[255] 


but  poor  fifteenth-century  work,  and  was  probably  entirely  rebuilt 
at  that  time,  if,  indeed,  it  is  not  a  work  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
undertaken  after  the  fire  which  melted  the  bells,  in  a.d.  1638. 

No  other  alteration  was  made  in  the  church  before  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  in  1638  the  church  suffered  from  the  fire  caused  by  light- 
ning, mentioned  by  Hasted  and  in  the  Petitions  to  Parliament. 
The  roofs  throughout  must  have  been  burned,  and,  covered  as 
they  were  with  shingle,^  it  is  not  surprising  that  when  once  set  on 
fire  no  part  of  them  was  saved.  Traces  of  the  fire  are  very  evident, 
particularly  on  the  stones  of  the  tower  arches,  which  are  reddened 
by  its  action.  We  found  also  in  the  upper  part  of  the  aisle  walls 
portions  of  molten  lead,  which  had  run  into  the  interstices  of  the 
stone  work  at  the  time  of  the  fire.  The  Petitions  of  the  Parishioners 
of  Stone  give  most  exact  information  as  to  what  happened  before 
and  after  the  fire;  from  them  we  learn  (1)  that  before  the  fire  the 
stone  groined  roof  existed  on  the  chancel,  but  was  much  dilapidated, 
and  that  the  glass  in  the  chancel-windows  was  in  a  sad  state  of  decay: 
(2)  "  that  the  chauncell  received  little  damage  by  the  late  fire,"  yet 
that  a  very  large  part  of  the  brief-money,  raised  for  the  repair  of 
the  church,  was  "uncessantly  wasted  and  bestowed  on  the  same, 
soe  that  the  church  is  like  to  remayne  unfynished."  This  was  in 
A.D.  1640,  and  I  think  we  may  gather  from  it  the  exact  date  of  the 
alterations  in  the  chancel.  Its  groined  roof  was  taken  down,  its 
walls  lowered  some  five  feet,  the  tracery  of  the  window  in  the  north 
wall  of  the  chancel  partly  destroyed  in  order  to  lower  the  walls, 
and  the  window  then  built  up;  the  east  window  and  probably  one 
in  the  south  wall  destroyed,  and  imitations  of  perpendicular  win- 
dows —  poor  in  character,  but  nevertheless  very  good  for  their 
date  —  inserted  in  the  place  of  the  original  windows  in  the  north , 
east,  and  south  walls  of  the  chancel.  The  wall  was  rebuilt  on  either 
side  of  these  windows  with  numerous  fragments  of  the  old  groining 
ribs,  thus  affording  the  final  proof  that  the  windows  were  inserted 
and  the  groining  taken  down  at  the  same  time.  This  discovery  was 
most  grateful  to  me,  inasmuch  as  it  had  been  objected  to  the  resto- 
ration of  the  original  windows  in  the  chancel,  that  those  which  we 
had  to  remove  were  fair  examples  of  perpendicular  work,  and  val- 
uable in  their  way:  in  truth,  they  were  examples  of  Gothic  work  in 
the  years  1638-40,  of  no  value  at  all  in  relation  to  the  architecture 
of  the  rest  of  the  church,  though  undoubtedly  affording  very  inter- 
esting evidence  of  the  undying  love  of  Gothic  architecture  in  this 
country,  and  of  a  not  unsuccessful  attempt  at  its  revival.* 


1  Will  of  John  Bokeland,  p.  10. 

*  One  of  these  windows  is  still  left  in  the  south  wall  of  the 
chancel. 

[256] 


I  have  been  unable  to  learn  the  exact  date  of  the  repair  and  re- 
roofing  of  the  remainder  of  the  church.  The  living  was  sequestered 
in  A.D.  1650,  and  Mr.  Chase  must,  I  should  think,  in  the  ten  years 
between  the  petitions  and  this  date,  have  put  his  church  into  ten- 
antable  condition.  The  nave  roof  appears  to  be  of  about  this 
date,  and  is  framed  with  tie-beams,  queen-posts,  and  purlines, 
with  arched  braces  above  the  collars,  and,  though  not  very  orna- 
mental, has  been  re-opened,  with  the  very  best  result  on  the 
general  effect  of  the  church.  Subsequently  to  the  erection  of 
the  new  roofs,  they  had  been  churchwardenized,  in  the  usual  way, 
by  the  addition  of  plaster  ceilings,^  and  in  a  less  usual  way,  by  the 
addition  of  a  second  roof  over  the  other,  and  supported  by  it  to  the 
serious  damage  of  the  walls  and  piers.*  The  vestry  seems  never  to 
have  been  repaired  after  the  fire,  and  the  Wilshyre  chantry  was 
roofed  with  a  steep  lean-to  against  the  north  wall  of  the  chancel, 
and  ceiled  with  a  flat  ceiling,  for  which  I  cannot  be  too  grateful,  as 
it  made  it  impossible  to  insert  a  new  window  at  this  place  in  the 
A.D.  1640  restoration,  and  afforded  me  the  only  chance  of  discover- 
ing and  restoring  the  original  chancel  windows.  Knowing  this 
before  making  my  plans,  I  cut  into  the  wall  at  this  point,  and  was 
rewarded,  even  beyond  my  greatest  expectations,  by  the  discovery 
of  the  window-jamb,  the  monials,  and  a  sufficient  portion  of  the 
tracery  to  enable  me  to  restore  it  exactly  to  its  original  design  in 
every  respect. 

Having  thus  completed  the  notice  of  the  alterations  in  the  fabric, 
it  is  time  to  give  a  proper  account  of  all  its  architectural  peculiari- 
ties. The  church  is  internally  a  rare  example  of  a  building  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  same  state  as  when  it  was  first  built.  For  a  village 
church  its  character  is  unusually  sumptuous  and  ornate;  and  per- 
haps there  is  no  example  of  any  first-pointed  building  in  England 
in  which  the  grace  and  delicacy  which  characterize  the  style  have 
been  carried  to  greater  perfection.  It  is  impossible,  indeed,  to  speak 
too  highly  of  the  workmanship  or  of  the  design  of  every  part,  and 


1  It  appears  from  a  note  by  Mr.  Heathcote,  a  former  Rector,  in 
the  parish  book,  that  the  church  and  chancel  were  ceiled  in  the 
year  1777.  This  is  the  only  note  in  these  books  which  refers  to  the 
building,  if  I  except  an  entry  in  regard  to  the  erection  of  a  western 
gallery,  which  has  been  removed  in  the  course  of  restoring  the 
church.  The  old  parish  books  are  all  destroyed,  and  no  record 
exists  earlier  than  the  end  of  the  last  century. 

*  "Less  usual,"  but  not  unique.  The  church  at  East  Barnet 
afforded  another  example  of  the  same  mode  of  spending  money  in 
the  palmy  days  of  ample  church-rates  and  irresponsible  church- 
wardens. 

C  2S7  ] 


close  as  is  its  similarity  in  many  points  to  our  glorious  abbey  at 
Westminster,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  in  care  and  beauty  of 
workmanship  the  little  village  church  is  undoubtedly  superior  to 
the  minster.  This  might  well  be,  for  with  all  its  beauty,  and  with 
all  its  vigour,  the  mere  execution  of  much  of  the  work  at  Westmin- 
ster is  not  first-rate,  and  hardly  such  as  one  might  expect  in  so 
important  a  position. 

The  exterior  of  the  church  is  exceedingly  simple.  There  are  doors 
at  the  west  end  and  in  the  west  bay  of  the  north  aisle.  In  front  of  the 
former  there  was  a  groined  porch,  of  which  a  small  portion  of  the 
springer  for  the  groining  on  one  side  only  remains;  this  was  brought 
to  light  by  the  removal  of  a  brick  porch  which  had  been  erected  in 
its  place.  The  string-course  above  the  door  is  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  but  the  window  above  it  of  three  lights,  and  three  other 
windows  of  two  lights  in  the  western  bays  of  the  aisles,  are  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  and  the  work,  probably,  of  Bishop  Haymo  de 
Hethe.  The  north  aisle  door  is  remarkable  for  its  rich  detail  and 
peculiar  character.  One  of  the  orders  is  adorned  with  a  chevron  on 
one  face  and  with  dogteeth  on  the  other,  and  the  inner  order  is 
enriched  with  a  rose.  The  dogteeth  and  the  carving  of  the  rose 
are  quite  consistent  in  character  with  the  date  of  the  church,  and  the 
chevron  is  no  doubt  a  curious  instance  of  imitation  of  earlier  work, 
rather  than  evidence  of  the  doorway  itself  being  earlier  than  the 
rest  of  the  church.  The  dogteeth  are  well  developed,  and  the  roses 
are  similar  in  character  to  those  in  the  internal  jambs  and  arches 
of  the  transept  doors  at  Westminster.  The  windows  in  the  side 
walls  of  the  aisles  are  all  alike  on  the  exterior,  simply  chamfered 
with  labels  over  them,  save  the  western  window  of  the  south  aisle, 
where  there  is  no  label.  Those  at  the  east  ends  of  the  aisles  are 
more  important;  that  to  the  east  of  the  north  aisle  being  of  four 
lights,  and  that  to  the  east  of  the  south  aisle  of  two  lights.  The 
buttresses  are  very  simple,  of  two  stages  in  height,  with  plain  weath- 
erings. The  north  chancel  aisle  is  the  Wilshyre  chantry,  a  late 
third-pointed  work,  with  a  battlemented  parapet.  The  erection 
of  this  chapel  involved  the  removal  of  one  of  the  chancel  buttresses, 
and  in  place  of  it  a  very  bold  flying  buttress  was  erected,  which 
spans  the  roof  of  the  chapel,  and  adds  much  to  the  picturesque 
effect  of  this  side  of  the  church.  Its  erection  in  the  fifteenth  century 
was  good  proof,  in  the  absence  of  any  other,  that  at  that  time  at 
any  rate  the  groined  roof  of  the  chancel  was  standing,  for  otherwise 
its  erection  would  never  have  been  required.  The  removal  of  the 
high,  tiled,  lean-to  roof  of  the  Wilshyre  chantry  has  exposed  the 
flying  buttress,  the  fine  east  window  of  the  north  aisle,  and  the  still 
finer  window  in  the  north  wall,  restored,  as  I  have  said,  in  exact 
accordance  with  the  window  which  I  was  so  happy  as  to  find  there. 

C  258  ] 


The  vestry,  which  forms  a  continuation  of  the  north  chancel  aisle, 
is  lighted  with  two  small  windows,  with  ogee  trefoiled  heads.  It 
was  a  roofless  ruin,  but  now  it  has  been  re-roofed,  and,  as  well  as 
the  chantry,  is  covered  with  a  lead  flat  roof,  which  seems  to  have 
been  the  original  covering,  and  has  the  advantage  of  not  conceal- 
ing any  portion  of  the  chancel.  The  east  window  is  new,  of  three 
lights,  corresponding  in  all  respects  with  the  restored  north  window, 
save  in  its  dimensions,  which  are  rather  larger.  So  much  of  the  east 
wall  had  been  taken  down  and  rebuilt,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
decide  exactly  whether  the  east  window  was  originally  of  three  or 
four  lights.  I  am  rather  inclined  to  believe  that  it  was  of  four 
lights,  for  towards  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  it  is  not  at  all 
unusual  to  find  windows  of  an  even  number  of  lights  in  the  east 
end;  and  the  arcade  below  the  window  inside  is  of  four  divisions. 
Still,  as  there  was  no  evidence  whatever  that  this  was  the  case,  I 
thought  it,  on  the  whole,  safer  to  repeat  simply  that  in  which  I  was 
certainly  following  the  old  architect,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  two 
restored  windows  is  so  remarkable  that  one  need  not  wish  them  to 
be  other  than  they  are.  In  the  south  wall  of  the  chancel  one  of 
the  windows  inserted  circa  a.d.  1640  still  remains;  it  is  of  some  value 
to  the  antiquary,  and  the  contrast  between  it  and  the  new  windows,  I 
hope,  will  amply  justify  the  course  I  have  adopted,  in  removing  its 
two  companions.  The  chancel  buttresses  are  of  great  projection, 
but  all  their  weatherings  and  finishings  are  modern,  and  for  lack 
of  funds  remain  for  the  present  unaltered.  The  chancel  is  of  two 
bays  in  length,  and  between  its  western  buttress  and  the  south  wall 
of  the  nave  is  a  space  of  six  feet,  through  which,  on  the  south, 
there  appears  to  have  been  a  doorway.^  This  would  have  opened 
into  the  western  portion  of  the  chancel,  close  to  the  chancel  arch, 
and  serves  to  prove  that  the  chancel  was  not  originally  intended  to 
be  filled  with  wooden  stalls. 

Before  the  restoration  of  the  church,  the  roof  over  the  nave  was 
steep,  and  flatter  in  its  pitch  over  the  aisles;  and  the  chancel  roof 
presented  two  gables  towards  the  east,  and  had  a  gutter  over  the 
centre  of  the  ceiling  from  end  to  end.  All  this  is  now  altered.  The 
nave  roof  has  returned  to  its  one  uniform  slope,  simple  and  dignified 
in  its  effect;  and  the  chancel  walls,  raised  to  their  old  height,  so  as 
to  admit  of  the  restoration  of  the  groining,  and  surmounted  by  a 
high-pitched  roof,  finished  with  gable-copings  and  crosses,  presents 
again  the  outline  which  no  doubt  it  presented  before  the  fire  in  a.d. 
1638.    The  chancel  roof  is  now  much  higher  than  that  of  the  nave. 


^  John  Bokeland,  in  his  will,  talks  of  the  chancel  door:  I  believe 
he  means  the  door  in  the  Rood-screen,  from  the  nave  into  the 
chancel. 

[259] 


but  I  hope  some  day  to  remedy  whatever  defect  there  is  in  the  ex- 
ternal proportions  of  the  building,  by  the  removal  of  the  poor  modern 
battlements,  and  the  erection  of  a  wooden  spire,  shingled  after  the 
common  Kentish  fashion.  The  roof  of  the  steeple  was  burnt  in 
A.D.  1638,  and  the  heat  having  been  so  great  that  the  bells  melted, 
it  is  fair  to  assume  that  the  roof  so  burnt  was  rather  a  spire  than  a 
flat  roof,  and,  indeed,  Hasted's  expression  that  the  "steeple"  was 
burnt,  refers,  it  can  hardly  be  doubted,  to  a  timber  spire. 

I  will  now  proceed  to  give  a  detailed  description  of  the  interior. 
The  nave  is  entered  by  the  west  door,  under  the  tower.  The  piers 
of  the  tower  arches  were  re-cased  in  the  fourteenth  century,  and  the 
capitals,  carved  with  poor  stiff  foliage  at  the  same  time,  afford  a 
marked  contrast  to  the  workmanship  and  design  of  the  earlier  cap- 
itals. The  three  arches  under  the  north,  south,  and  east  walls  of 
the  tower  are  unaltered,  of  the  same  character  as  the  arches  in  the 
nave,  and  evidently  earlier  than  the  piers  which  support  them. 
The  nave  and  aisles  consist,  in  addition  to  the  engaged  western 
steeple,  of  three  bays.  The  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  design 
of  this  interior  is  the  way  in  which  the  whole  of  the  work  gradu- 
ally increases  in  richness  of  detail  and  in  beauty  from  west  to  east. 
This  will  be  seen  immediately  on  an  examination  of  the  building 
itself.  It  is  a  very  charming  feature,  and  though  one  might  have 
supposed  that  it  would  not  be  so  very  uncommon,  suggested  as  it 
seems  to  be  naturally  by  the  respect  which  in  almost  all  ages  has 
been  paid  to  the  altar  end  of  the  church,  I  believe  I  may  affirm 
that  Stone  church  is  unique  in  the  studied  way  in  which  it  has 
been  done.  At  the  risk  of  being  very  tedious,  I  give  a  detailed 
description  of  the  interior,  which  will  explain  the  variation  of  the 
design  to  which  I  have  referred: 

Western  Bay  {north  side).  —  The  window  is  of  two  lancets,  with 
quatrefoil  above:  the  inside  arch  chamfered,  with  a  simple  label 
returned,  without  any  carving  at  bottom.  The  jambs  are  simply 
splayed:   arches  between  nave  and  aisles  moulded. 

Middle  Bay.  —  Windows  of  same  shape,  but  the  inside  arch  and 
the  quatrefoil  are  richly  moulded,  and  the  internal  jambs  are  fin- 
ished with  a  moulding  and  stone  shaft,  with  moulded  base  and 
carved  capital.  The  label  is  enriched  with  dogteeth  (it  is  the  only 
label  in  the  church  in  which  they  occur),  and  is  terminated  with 
heads  of  a  queen  on  the  right,  and  a  king  on  the  left,  the  latter 
much  defaced. 

The  arches  between  the  nave  and  aisles  are  moulded,  but  more 
richly  than  those  in  the  western  bay. 

Eastern  Bay.  — Tracery  of  windows  as  before;  the  quatrefoil  is 
not  moulded.  Jambs  have  two  shafts  (one  stone  and  one  marble) 
on  each  side,  and  a  detached  marble  shaft  in  the  centre.    From 

[260] 


these  a  richly-moulded  rear-arch  springs,  with  tracery  of  two  lights 
corresponding  with  that  of  the  windows.  The  whole  composition 
of  this  window  is  of  extreme  beauty. 

The  arches  between  aisles  and  nave  in  this  bay  are  richly  moulded, 
and  the  centre  of  the  soffit  is  enriched  with  a  large  dogtooth,  mak- 
ing it  much  more  ornate  in  character  than  the  other  arches. 

The  windows  in  the  south  wall  correspond  generally  with  those 
in  the  north,  and  exhibit  the  same  graduation  of  enrichment.  In 
the  window  in  the  eastern  bay  there  are  two  circular  bosses  of  foli- 
age in  the  spandrels  of  the  internal  tracery;^  in  the  opposite  window 
these  circles  are  plain  sunk  circles  without  any  sculpture:  and  it 
appears  that  the  architect,  wishing  to  avoid  the  expense  of  sinking 
the  whole  surface  of  the  stone,  so  as  to  leave  the  sculpture  in  ad- 
vance of  it,  let  in  his  bosses  into  a  rebate  in  the  stone  work.  This'is  a 
very  rare  mode  of  construction,  but  appears  to  be  perfectly  lawful. 

The  east  window  of  the  north  aisle  is  richer  than  any  of  the  others 
in  the  nave.  It  is  of  four  lights,  with  two  marble  shafts  in  each 
jamb,  and  one  in  the  centre  monial.  The  tracery  has  quatrefoiled 
circles  over  the  side-lights,  under  enclosing  arches,  and  a  large 
cusped  circle  in  the  head :  the  arch  is  extremely  pointed.  The  mould- 
ings throughout  are  more  delicate  than  anywhere  else  in  the  church, 
and  the  large  circle  has  a  dogtooth  enrichment.  Externally  this 
window  is  exceedingly  simple:  the  rich  mouldings  of  the  interior 
being  changed  to  a  plain  chamfer  and  broad  flat  tracery  bars,  very 
peculiar  in  their  effect.  This  window  was  entirely  blocked  up, 
the  cusping  in  the  tracery  concealed,  and  a  four-centred  brick  arch 
under  it  connected  the  aisle  with  the  Wilshyre  chantry.  We  have 
taken  away  this  brick  arch,  restored  the  old  jambs  and  sill,  and 
supported  them  on  a  flat  stone  arch.  The  flat  roof  of  the  chantry 
crosses  the  window  just  below  the  springing,  and  the  portion  above 
is  to  be  glazed  with  stained  glass,  whilst  that  below  is  open  through 
to  the  chantry.  This  was  the  best  arrangement  that  could  be  made 
with  the  double  object  of  preserving  the  old  window  in  all  its  in- 
tegrity and  yet  making  the  chantry  available  for  use  by  the  congre- 
gation. 

The  east  window  of  the  south  aisle  is  much  less  magnificent  than 
that  last  described:  it  is  of  two  lights,  with  two  marble  shafts  in 
each  jamb,  and  an  engaged  stone  shaft  in  the  monial.  Externally 
this  window  is  remarkable  for  the  curious  freak  by  which  the  outer 
chamfer  is  gathered  in  with  a  curve  some  six  inches  on  each  side 
just  at  the  springing. 

The  chancel  arch  Is  more  richly  moulded  on  the  west  face  than 


^  The  central  shaft  and  part  of  the  internal  tracery  of  this  win- 
dow are  destroyed,  and  we  have  been  unable  yet  to  restore  them. 

[261] 


any  of  the  others,  and  has  a  band  of  foliage  enrichments  of  very 
magnificent  character,  very  elaborate  developments  of  the  dog- 
tooth; each  being  the  general  shape  of  a  dogtooth,  but  filled  up 
with  intricate  and  beautiful  foliage.  Above  the  chancel  arch  on 
either  side  are  two  quatrefoils,  within  which  are  carved  exquisite 
compositions  of  foliage,  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  Brilliant 
traces  of  red  colour  remain  on  these  carvings.  These  quatrefoils 
were  completely  concealed  by  plaster  before  the  restoration,  and 
their  re-opening  has  amazingly  improved  the  effect  of  the  wall  above 
the  chancel  arch.  The  side  walls  of  the  nave  are  finished  at  the  top 
with  a  moulded  string-course,  which  is  returned  for  about  a  foot  on 
either  side  at  the  east,  and  was  probably  continued  all  round  the 
church.^ 

The  whole  body  of  the  church  was  covered  with  a  coat  of  plaster. 
Most  fortunately  this  had  been  put  up  by  some  pious  plasterer, 
who,  though  he  loved  plaster  well,  loved  the  church  better,  and  had 
no  heart  for  hacking  holes  in  its  walls  to  afford  a  key  for  his  plaster. 
The  consequence  was,  that  in  an  hour  or  two  the  whole  of  the  walls 
were  stripped  of  their  covering,  and  displayed  their  old  masonry 
fortunately  intact.  The  walls  above  the  arcades  are  faced  with 
chalk,  regularly  squared  and  coursed  on  the  side  towards  the  nave, 
and  built  roughly  on  the  sides  toward  the  aisles,  and  are  finished 
with  a  course  of  Gatton  stone  below  the  string-course  at  the  top. 
The  aisle  walls  are  built  of  rough  flint  at  their  base;  above  this  a 
course  of  squared  chalk  below  the  principal  string-course,  and  on  this 
there  are  traces  of  a  thirteenth  century  pattern,  painted  in  red. 
Above  the  string-course  the  walls  are  built  entirely  with  coursed 
chalk,  with  quoins  and  dressings  of  Gatton  stone. 

The  removal  of  the  plaster  between  the  two  eastern  windows  in 
the  south  wall  disclosed  a  portion  of  an  arcade.  This  seems  never 
to  have  been  completed,  for  whilst  the  lower  stone  has  the  dog- 
tooth enrichment  of  the  arch  finished,  the  upper  stone  has  it  simply 
blocked  out  in  the  square:  we  found  a  corresponding  fragment  of 
arcading  built  into  the  upper  part  of  the  chancel  wall,  and  whilst 
that  which  exists  in  the  south  wall  appears  to  have  been  always  in 
the  same  place,  it  seems  pretty  clear  that  the  other  piece  was  never 
fixed  near  it.  The  conclusion  at  which  I  arrive  is,  therefore,  that 
these  are  fragments  of  a  work  commenced  but  abandoned  for  another 
scheme  at  the  very  time  the  work  was  going  on. 

Before  going  to  the  chancel  a  note  should  be  added  here,  as  to 
the  painted  decorations  which  have  been  discovered.    A  portion  of 


^  I  see  no  evidence  of  the  existence  of  a  clerestory;  and  the  col- 
umns are  so  delicate  that  I  think  it  is  impossible  that  it  can  ever 
have  been  intended  to  erect  one. 

[262] 


these  are  architectural  in  their  character,  the  rest  pictorial.  Among 
the  former,  is  the  running  pattern  forming  a  border  under  the 
string-course  in  the  south  aisle.  This  I  hope  to  continue  all  along 
the  wall,  it  being  sufficiently  clear  in  the  one  place  where  it  occurs 
to  warrant  restoration;  and  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  importance 
attached  by  the  old  architect  to  decoration  on  a  line  so  marked  as 
that  of  the  principal  string-course.  There  is  also  a  faint  border 
round  the  chancel  arch,  painted  in  red,  but  rather  later  in  its  char- 
acter than  the  string-course.  The  pictorial  decorations  are  all  on 
the  north  aisle  wall.  Between  the  first  and  second  windows  is  a 
large  sitting  figure  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  nursing  our  Lord: 
S.  Mary  has  a  veil,  and  is  not  crowned,  and  has  a  red  robe  and  a 
blue  cloak.  She  is  seated  on  a  throne  with  shafts  at  the  angles, 
and  the  canopy  is  a  gabled  trefoil  with  triple  pinnacles  on  either 
side.  As  far  as  I  can  judge,  this  work  appears  to  be  very  late  thir- 
teenth century  or  early  fourteenth  century  work,  and  was  evidently 
rich  in  colour.  The  painting  between  the  two  next  windows  is  so  dam- 
aged that  I  have  been  unable  to  decide  what  it  represents.  On  the 
wall  east  of  the  eastern  window  is  another  figure  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary,  also  nursing  our  Lord,  and  seated  under  a  trefoiled 
canopy.  No  other  traces  of  painting  remain,  save  the  colour,  already 
mentioned,  on  the  sculptured  crosses  over  the  chancel  arch,  and 
some  painted  crosses  on  the  east  wall  of  the  chancel. 

From  this  description  it  will  be  seen  how  systematically  all  this 
portion  of  the  work  has  been  designed:  subject  to  the  carrying  out 
of  the  general  scheme  there  are,  however,  some  small  peculiarities 
which  may  point,  either  to  the  Gothic  love  of  variety  on  the  part  of 
the  architect,  or  (and  as  I  think,  more  probably)  to  the  fact  that 
portions  of  the  work  may  have  been  special  offerings  or  donations 
from  different  persons.  Certainly  I  see  no  other  way  of  accounting 
for  the  repetition  within  a  few  years  of  two  copies  of  the  same  painted 
subject  on  the  north  aisle  wall. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  there  is  no  sign  of  a  piscina  in  either  of 
the  aisles.  I  thought  it  possible  at  first  that  the  arcade  we  discov- 
ered in  the  south  aisle  might  have  formed  a  portion  of  the  sedilia 
for  an  altar  in  the  aisle,  but  I  hardly  think  now  that  this  could  have 
been  the  case. 

The  chancel  consists  of  a  western  bay  of  seven  feet  in  depth,  from 
east  to  west,  and  east  of  this  of  two  bays  each  21  ft.  2  in.  wide  and 
16  ft.  3  in.  long,  from  centre  to  centre  of  the  groining  shafts.  The 
west  bay  has  no  windows,  but  there  is,  as  I  have  said,  a  trace  of  a 
doorway  in  the  south  wall.  The  other  bays  have  each  three  divi- 
sions of  wall  arcading  on  marble  shafts,  and  the  east  wall  has  four 
divisions  of  the  same  arcade.  The  spandrels  of  these  arcades  are 
filled  in  with  sculptured  foliage,  so  beautiful  and  delicate  in  its  exe- 

[263] 


cution,  and  so  nervous  and  vigorous  in  its  design,  that  I  believe  it 
may  safely  be  pronounced  to  be  among  the  very  best  sculpture  of 
the  age  that  we  have  in  this  country.  I  shall  have  to  enter  again 
upon  the  subject  of  this  portion  of  the  work,  in  comparing  it  to  the 
sculpture  at  Westminster.  The  work  at  Stone  appears  to  me  to 
be  all  by  one  man,  and  he  seems  to  have  been,  if  not  the  best  of  the 
Westminster  sculptors,  at  any  rate  equal  to  the  best. 

There  are  in  this  chancel  twenty-one  of  these  spandrels,  all  dif- 
ferent in  design,  but  all  nearly  equal  in  merit.  The  aggregate  amount 
of  work  bestowed  here  is  as  nothing  compared  with  that  which  has 
been  lavished  in  scores  of  cases  on  sculpture  in  our  new  churches: 
yet  is  there  any  one  modern  work  which  possesses  a  titheof  the  value 
of  this  work?  And  would  it  not  be  far  better  to  limit  our  nineteenth 
century  carvers  of  foliage  to  work  rather  less  in  amount,  and  consid- 
erably more  in  merit,  than  that  which  they  are  wont  to  give  us? 
The  sculpture  at  Stone  was  no  contract  work:  no  exhibition  of  the 
greatest  skill  in  covering  the  largest  possible  number  of  stones  with 
the  greatest  possible  quantity  of  carving:  and  it  was  executed  with 
a  delicacy  of  hand,  a  fineness  of  eye,  a  nervous  sensibility  so  soft, 
that  no  perfunctory  imitation  can  ever  be  in  the  least  degree  likely 
to  rival  its  beauty.  The  small  bosses  of  foliage  which  adorn  the 
smaller  spandrels  in  this  arcade  are  very  well  carved;  and  it  is 
worthy  of  remark  that  the  same  design  is  repeated  several  times. 
No.  1  is  repeated  four  times.  No.  2  six  times,  and  No.  3  seven 
times;  besides  which  the  same  design  is  used,  simply  reversed.  It 
looks  as  though  a  model  had  been  cut,  and  then  copies  made  of  it. 

The  walls  of  the  chancel  are  only  2  ft.  3^  in.  thick,  but  the  great 
size  of  the  buttresses  amply  compensated  for  this,  and  preserved 
them  from  suffering  at  all  by  the  thrust  of  the  groining.  Before 
the  restoration  the  state  of  the  chancel  was  a  sad  falling  off  from  its 
old  state.  The  arcade  at  the  base  of  the  walls  was  perfect  all  round. 
The  lower  part  of  the  groining-shafts  remained,  as  also  did  the 
whole  of  a  cluster  of  shafts  on  each  side  between  the  short  western 
bay  already  mentioned  and  the  next.  The  groining  was  all  de- 
stroyed, but  marks  of  it  remained  against  the  wall,  and  it  was  easy 
therefore  to  obtain  its  exact  section.  The  treatment  of  the  western 
bay  was  peculiar.  It  was  clearly  never  covered,  as  the  rest  of  the 
chancel  was,  with  a  quadripartite  vault.  The  mark  of  a  vault  re- 
mained against  the  wall  above  the  chancel  arch,  whilst  the  side 
walls  showed  that  a  barrel  vault  had  sprung  from  them.  The  cluster 
of  three  shafts  between  this  bay  and  the  next  remained  to  be  ex- 
plained. One  of  them  only  was  the  groining-shaft  answering  to 
the  others;  but  upon  a  very  close  examination  of  a  fragment  of  the 
wall  above  them  and  of  the  marks  on  the  caps  themselves,  I  was 
able  to  ascertain  beyond  doubt  that  the  two  other  shafts  had 

C  264  ] 


carried  an  arch  moulded  on  the  east  face,  the  soffit  of  which, 
continued  westward,  formed  the  pointed  barrel-vault  over  the  west- 
ern bay.  This  has  now  been  all  restored,  and  with  so  much  certainty 
as  to  all  its  parts,  that  I  trust  it  will  not  be  opened  to  the  criticisms 
to  which  too  many  restorations  are  liable,  of  being  rather  ingenious 
than  true.  I  should  mention  that  the  new  groining-ribs  are  of  the 
same  section  as  the  old.  The  window  in  the  north  wall  has  been 
exactly  restored  after  the  old  remains,  some  of  which  have  indeed 
been  incorporated  with  the  new  work.  It  is  of  three  uncusped 
lights,  with  tracery  composed  of  three  cusped  circles.  The  cusping 
was  let  into  a  groove,  and  a  sufficient  number  of  fragments  remained 
to  give  the  exact  number  of  cusps,  etc.  On  the  exterior  the  jamb 
has  two  engaged  shafts,  with  caps  and  bases,  and  on  the  inside  the 
monials  are  well  moulded  and  have  each  a  detached  marble  shaft, 
whilst  the  jambs  have  two  marble  shafts  and  are  richly  moulded. 
Internally  the  arch  and  tracery  mouldings  are  very  delicate,  whilst 
externally  they  consist  of  bold  chamfers  and  hollows  only.  The 
detail  of  the  sculpture  of  the  capitals  of  the  monials  was  managed 
with  rare  skill,  as  seen  by  a  fragment  found  in  the  north  wall.  This 
window  is  now  treated  in  the  same  way  as  that  at  the  east  end  of 
the  north  aisle,  being  partly  below  the  roof  of  the  Wilshyre  chantry. 
An  old  arch  existed  behind  the  arcade  under  it,  and  this  has  been 
replaced  by  one  of  stone,  so  that  the  chantry  is  now  sufficiently 
open  to  the  chancel  for  the  purpose  of  use  by  the  congregation. 

On  the  south  wall  of  the  chancel  is  the  old  piscina,  under  one  of 
the  divisions  of  the  arcading.  The  arcade  is  continued  across  the 
east  wall  of  the  chancel,  in  four  divisions;  and  treated  exactly  in 
the  same  way  as  at  the  sides;  it  is  pretty  clear,  therefore,  that  it 
can  never  have  been  intended  to  place  the  altar  against  the  wall, 
and  it  was  no  doubt  brought  forward  a  few  feet  (with  perhaps 
a  low  wall  or  reredos  behind  it)  in  the  way  so  common  in  the  case 
of  apsidal  chancels,  and  of  which  we  have  examples  at  Arundel  and 
at  Warfield  in  the  case  of  square-ended  chancels.  In  the  two  divi- 
sions of  the  arcade  we  found,  on  removing  the  whitewash  and  plaster, 
a  painted  cross  pattee,  enclosed  within  a  circle:  it  was  red  on  a 
white  ground,  and  outlined  with  black.  Whether  this  was  a  dedi- 
cation cross,  or  only  painted  in  connection  with  the  altar,  it  is 
impossible  to  say.^ 

^  I  cannot  express  my  vexation  at  finding  that  in  spite  of  my 
earnest  injunctions  to  the  workmen  to  be  careful,  this  painted  cross 
was  destroyed.  It  is  often  absolutely  impossible  for  an  architect 
to  stop  wilful  destruction  of  this  kind.  I  have  sometimes  thought 
that  it  might  be  a  good  plan  to  draw  up  a  contract  for  church  resto- 
rations, inflicting  a  heavy  fine  on  the  contractor  for  any  such  de- 
struction of  any  old  feature. 

[265] 


In  the  chancel  floor  are  some  ancient  grave-stones,  among  which 
those  of  John  Lumbarde,  Rector,  a  fine  brass  cross  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  and  the  little  brass  of  Sir  John  Dew,  are  well  known,  and  of 
much  value.  They  have  been  carefully  relaid  in  connection  with 
a  new  pavement  round  the  altar.  The  altar-rail  has  also  been  brought 
forward;  the  altar  set  on  a  foot  pace  about  three  feet  from  the  east 
wall,  with  a  low  stone  perpeyn  wall  at  its  back,  capped  with  marble, 
and  showing  the  old  arcade  above  it. 

It  remains  to  mention  a  few  ancient  fragments  which  have  been 
discovered  during  the  progress  of  the  works. 

They  are: 

1.  A  fragment  of  very  richly  cusped  thirteenth-century  tracery, 
very  delicately  moulded.  This  has  not  formed  part  of  a  window, 
and  perhaps  belonged  to  the  reredos,  if  there  was  one. 

2.  A  fine  head  of  a  monk  (small). 

3.  A  half-destroyed  carved  capital  of  a  large  shaft  clustered  of 
three:  it  looks  like  the  capital  of  a  groining-shaft,  but  agrees  with 
nothing  in  the  church. 

4.  One  moulded  marble  capital,  and  two  fragments  of  a  marble 
monial,  with  engaged  shaft  inside  and  out.  There  is  no  existing 
marble  monial  in  the  church,  and  the  only  suggestion  I  can  make  is, 
that  possibly  the  same  increase  of  enrichment  that  I  have  noticed 
was  carried  on  to  the  east  end,  and  the  east  window  executed  with 
monials  entirely  of  marble;  but  on  the  other  hand,  this  monial, 
though  of  marble,  is  not  so  rich  in  detail  and  moulding  as  the  stone 
monial,  with  its  detached  marble  shaft  in  the  north  window  of  the 
chancel. 

5.  A  portion  of  the  lower  part  of  a  sitting  figure  of  our  Lord. 
This  figure  is  that  of  a  man  about  four  feet  six  inches  in  height. 
The  feet  are  naked  and  pierced  with  the  wounds.  There  is  no  sign 
of  any  place  from  which  such  a  figure  could  have  been  moved.  Its 
date  is  about  that  of  the  church, 

6.  A  spandrel  of  an  arcade,  sculptured  with  a  portion  of  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead.  It  very  nearly  fits  the  spandrel  of  the  arcade 
discovered  in  the  south  wall  of  the  south  aisle,  and,  in  order  that  it 
may  be  preserved,  I  have  had  it  placed  there.  The  treatment  of 
the  bodies  coming  out  of  the  coffins  is  good,  and  the  work  is  about 
the  date  of  the  church. 

7.  A  large  number  of  fragments  of  the  groining-ribs  of  the  chan- 
cel, of  the  windows,  etc.  etc.,  were  also  found.  The  bulk  of  all 
these  were  built  into  the  upper  part  of  the  chancel  walls,  and  into 
the  gable  wall  above  the  chancel  arch,  and  were  no  doubt  placed 
there  at  the  time  of  the  alterations  of  the  building,  after  the  fire 
in  the  seventeenth  century. 

[266] 


Of  the  works  recently  executed  in  the  church,  it  will  be  sufficient 
to  say,  that  the  nave  has  been  re-seated  with  open  seats,  and  paved 
with  the  best  red,  black  and  buff  tiles.  The  eastern  part  of  the 
chancel  floor  has  been  repaved  with  marble  and  encaustic  tiles,  and 
want  of  the  necessary  funds  alone  has  prevented  the  re-laying  of 
the  remainder  of  the  chancel  floor  and  the  completion  of  the  seats. 
The  lectern  for  the  Bible  is  of  oak.  The  whole  of  the  chancel  has 
been  groined  in  stone  and  chalk:  the  groining-ribs  being  of  Caen 
stone,  and  the  filling  in  of  the  vault  of  chalk.  I  have  been  unable, 
on  account  of  the  cost,  to  introduce  any  bosses  at  the  intersection  of 
the  groining-ribs;  we  found  no  remains  of  any,  but  as  they  were  used 
in  the  groining  at  Westminster  Abbey,  I  should  have  preferred  their 
introduction.  On  the  same  account  the  wall-ribs  are  chamfered, 
not  moulded.  The  other  ribs  are  exactly  copied  from  the  old  frag- 
ments found  in  the  chancel  wall,  and  I  was  also  able  to  obtain  the 
exact  height  of  the  vault,  and  as  nearly  as  possible  the  mouldings 
of  the  bold  arch  on  the  eastern  face  of  the  waggon-vault  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  chancel.  The  east  and  north  windows  of  the  chancel 
are  both  new,  and  copied  from  the  old  fragments  found  by  me  in 
the  north  wall.  A  pulpit  of  stone,  alabaster  and  marble,  carved  by 
Mr.  Earp,  and  the  gift  of  the  family  of  the  late  Archdeacon  King, 
is  placed  in  the  north-east  angle  of  the  nave.  The  window  in  the 
east  bay  of  the  north  aisle  is  filled  with  stained  glass,  and  is  to  form 
one  of  a  series,  those  in  the  north  aisle  illustrating  the  miracles  of 
our  Lord,  and  those  in  the  south  aisle  the  parables.  This  window  is 
the  gift  of  Mrs  Cooper,  and  is  executed  (as  are  the  others)  by  Mr. 
Wailes,  of  Newcastle.  The  east  window  of  the  north  aisle  is  a  me- 
morial window  to  the  late  Archdeacon  King,  erected  by  his  parish- 
ioners: and  the  subject  is,  our  Lord  in  Majesty,  with  angels  on 
either  side.  The  east  window  of  the  chancel  is  also  a  memorial  to 
the  Archdeacon,  and  erected  by  his  family;  it  contains  a  long  series 
of  subjects  from  the  life  of  our  Lord,  in  medallions,  and  is  richly 
treated  in  Mr.  Wailes's  usual  style;  and  it  is  only  to  be  regretted 
that  in  brilliancy  of  colour  and  nervousness  of  drawing  he  does  not 
yet  by  any  means  equal  the  old  school  of  painters  on  glass.  The 
altar-cloth  is  of  red  velvet,  embroidered  in  the  old  manner  by  Mrs. 
G.  Murray. 

I  referred,  in  the  earlier  part  of  this  paper,  to  the  similarity  be- 
tween the  detail  of  the  work  at  Stone  and  that  of  the  earlier  por- 
tions of  Westminster  Abbey;  and  before  I  conclude  I  will,  as  well 
as  I  can,  explain  the  extent  of  this  similarity.  Few  subjects  are  of 
more  interest  to  me,  and  I  suppose  to  all  students  of  our  ancient 
architecture,  than  this  of  the  extent  to  which  the  work  of  the  same 
artist  may  be  traced  in  different  buildings.  I  have  been  able,  in  a 
considerable  number  of  cases,  to  prove  pretty  clearly  what  I  now 

[267] 


wish  to  prove  about  Stone  and  Westminster;^  but  I  need  hardly 
say  that  the  evidence  is  always  of  a  kind  which  it  is  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  give  in  writing;  though  it  is  difficult  to  resist  its  force  if  the 
two  works  are  examined  one  after  the  other,  and  their  special  pecu- 
liarities carefully  noted.  I  will  endeavour  however  to  show  the  exis- 
tence of  something  more  than  the  ordinary  likeness  of  all  works  of 
the  same  date  and  style,  between  Westminster  Abbey  and  some 
portions  of  Stone  church. 

I.  The  Arcades  round  the  Chapels  of  the  choir  at  Westminster 
are  almost  identical  in  shape  and  design  with  that  round  the  chancel 
at  Stone.  The  proportions  of  their  trefoil  cusps  are  very  peculiar, 
and  as  nearly  as  possible  the  same.  The  spandrels  are  filled  with 
foliage  carved  exactly  in  the  same  spirit.  The  labels  are  termi- 
nated upon  small  corbels  level  with  the  capitals:  a  very  unusual 
arrangement.  The  arcades  rest  upon  a  stone  chamfered  seat;  and 
the  arch-moulds,  though  not  the  same,  are  of  the  same  character, 
and  both  of  them  undercut  at  the  back. 

II.  Window  Tracery.  — The  original  window  tracery  at  West- 
minster is  the  same  as  at  Stone.  The  windows  in  the  south  triforium 
of  the  nave  (four  eastern  bays)  are  of  precisely  the  same  character 
as  the  window  discovered  in  the  chancel  at  Stone.  The  latter  are 
remarkable  for  the  great  width  of  the  light  (3  ft.  1  in.  and  3  ft.  10 
in.  in  the  clear),  and  this  is  very  characteristic  of  the  Westminster 
windows.  The  Stone  windows  are  remarkable  also  for  very  broad 
chamfered  tracery-bars  on  the  outside,  corresponding  with  very  rich 
mouldings  on  the  inside.  The  triforium  openings  at  Westminster 
are  treated  just  in  the  same  way  on  the  side  next  the  triforium,  and 
a  comparison  of  the  triforium  of  the  choir  and  north  transept  there 
with  the  east  window  of  the  north  aisle  at  Stone  would  well  illus- 
trate the  identity  of  character.  The  stone  cusping  in  both  is  let 
into  grooves  in  the  way  common  in  early  tracery. 

III.  The  Sculpture  of  Foliage  is  very  similar  in  both  churches. 
The  spandrels  of  arcades  are  treated  just  in  the  same  way:  at  West- 
minster sculptures  of  subjects  are  introduced  here  and  there  in  place 
of  foliage;  at  Stone  all  the  spandrels  are  filled  with  sculpture  of 
foliage;  but  we  found  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall  one  spandrel 
sculptured  with  figures,  which  appears  never  to  have  been  used.^ 

^  See  particularly  papers  by  me  on  Some  Churches  in  Kent, 
Surrey,  and  Sussex,  in  the  Ecclesiologist  of  1850,  and  On  the  Middle- 
Pointed  Churches  of  Cornwall,  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Exeter 
Architectural  Society,  vol.  iv. 

2  There  are  one  or  two  points  which  appear  to  me  to  make  it  pos- 
sible that  the  sculpture  of  foliage  was  not  done  at  Stone,  but  wrought 
elsewhere  and  sent  there  to  be  fixed.  The  northernmost  spandrel 
in  the  east  wall  should  be  examined  with  a  view  to  this  point. 

[268] 


The  foliage  of  capitals  is  generally  similar,  and  the  very  remarkable 
bosses  of  foliage  in  the  chancel  arch  at  Stone,  arranged  in  something 
of  the  outline  of  an  enormous  dogtooth,  are  all  but  repetitions  of  the 
similar  archivolt  enrichments  in  the  triforium  of  the  north  transept 
at  Westminster.  The  roses  round  the  archivolt  of  the  south  door 
at  Stone  are  of  the  same  kind  as  those  round  the  inside  arches  of 
the  north  transept  doorways  at  Westminster. 

The  foliage  carved  in  the  form  of  crosses  in  the  quatrefoils  over 
the  chancel  arch  at  Stone  are  repeated  in  a  quatrefoil  over  the  door 
in  the  cloister  at  Westminster,  leading  to  the  private  apartments  of 
the  abbat.  The  crosses  are,  of  course,  not  identical  in  their  treat- 
ment; but  the  idea  is  the  same,  and  one  of  rare  occurrence. 

IV.  The  Materials  used  in  the  Abbey  and  at  Stone  are  as  nearly 
as  possible  the  same.  The  wrought  stone  work  is  executed  in  Caen 
stone  and  Gatton  stone,  and  a  great  deal  of  chalk  is  used  for  wall- 
lining  and  groining,  and  all  the  shafts  are  of  marble. 

V.  Finally,  the  same  general  system  of  proportion  is  observed 
in  the  minster  and  the  village  church.  In  both,  the  width  from  the 
aisle  walls  to  the  centre  of  the  columns  is  equal  to  half  the  width  of 
the  nave.  At  Westminster  the  height  is  given  by  three  equilateral 
triangles,  whose  base-line  is  the  width  across  the  nave  from  centre 
to  centre  of  the  columns;  and  two  of  these  triangles  give  the  height 
for  the  springing  of  the  groining,  and  the  third  the  height  of  the 
groining  to  its  apex.  At  Stone,  if  we  erect  triangles  on  the  same 
base-line,  the  first  gives  the  top  of  the  capitals  of  the  nave  arcade; 
the  second,  within  very  little,  the  height  of  the  top  of  the  wall;  and 
the  third  may  very  well  be  supposed  to  have  marked  the  height  of 
the  ridge  of  the  timber  roof.  The  width  of  the  bays  in  the  nave  of 
Stone  is  equal  to  the  diagonal  of  half  the  width  of  the  nave;  and 
the  width  of  the  bays  in  the  chancel  is  equal  to  the  diagonal  from 
the  centre  of  one  column  to  the  centre  of  the  nave  or  aisle  opposite 
the  next  column;  whilst  the  height  of  the  chancel  is  given  by  two 
triangles  similar  to  those  in  the  nave,  whose  base  is  the  width  from 
centre  to  centre  of  the  groining-shafts. 

I  do  not  wish  to  lay  too  much  stress  on  any  one  of  these  points 
of  resemblance:  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  two  churches,  built 
by  the  same  architect,  so  unlike  in  size,  in  position,  and  in  dignity, 
should  show  anything  more  than  some  general  resemblance  of  char- 
acter; but  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that  when  I  have  pointed  to  such 
a  general  agreement  in  the  proportions,  the  materials,  the  sculp- 
ture, and  the  details,  as  we  find  at  Stone  and  Westminster,  it  would 
be  almost  enough  to  decide  the  question,  even  without  the  final 
and  (as  it  appears  to  me)  conclusive  evidence  afforded  by  the  all 
but  exact  identity  of  the  cusping  and  the  general  similarity  of  design 
in  the  wall-arcades  in  the  two  churches,  which  must  either  have 
been  copied  one  from  the  other,  or  designed  by  the  same  architect. 

[269] 


11 

CHURCHES  IN  NORTHERN  GERMANY 

{From  the  Ecclesiologist,  1854-1857) 

I 
THE  CHURCHES  OF  LUBECK 

Three  old  cities  far  apart,  across  the  whole  breadth  of  a  conti- 
nent, enable  us  to  form  a  fair  judgement  of  what  the  whole  of  Europe 
may  have  been  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Middle  Ages.  They  are 
Lubeck,  Nuremberg,  and  Verona;  each  telling  its  own  tale,  each 
marked  with  the  impress  of  national  peculiarity,  and  each  remark- 
able, among  other  things,  the  one  as  the  city  of  brick  work,  the  next 
as  that  of  stone,  and  the  last  as  that  of  marble.  In  Lubeck  nothing 
but  brick  was  ever  seen;  in  Nuremberg,  stone  was  used  with  an 
excellence  seldom  rivalled;  whilst  in  Verona,  though  brick  was 
most  beautifully  used,  the  great  aim  of  its  architects  was  ever  to 
introduce  the  marbles  in  which  the  district  around  it  is  so  rich. 
Each  of  these  cities  deserves  a  full  and  ample  study,  for  each  teaches 
its  own  lesson,  and  that  a  lesson  scarcely  to  be  learnt  elsewhere; 
and  if  this  evening  I  give  you  such  notes  as  I  was  able  to  make  in 
the  course  of  a  short  sojourn  last  autumn  in  Lubeck,  it  is  not  be- 
cause I  do  not  value  Nuremberg  and  Verona  much  more,  but  be- 
cause it  would  seem  that  if  one  were  to  write  of  all  three,  this  is  the 
one  with  which  one  should  commence,  as  nearest  to  and  most  con- 
nected with  our  own  country  and  style  of  architecture,  and  because 
its  features  of  interest  are  in  some  degree  less  remarkable  than 
those  of  the  others,  and  one  would  wish  to  reserve  the  best  for 
the  last. 

In  one  respect,  moreover,  two  of  these  cities  may  well  teach  us 
a  lesson.  Nuremberg  and  Lubeck  were  to  the  world  in  the  Middle 
Ages  what  London,  Liverpool,  and  Manchester  are  to  the  world  in 
this  age:  the  very  centres  of  all  commerce  for  all  Europe;  and  we 
may  surely  not  do  amiss  if  we  take  to  ourselves,  and  ponder  well 
upon,  the  lesson  which  the  singular  difference  between  their  earnest- 
ness in  matters  of  religion  and  ours  ought  to  teach  us.  There  was 
in  these  two  old  cities  such  an  appreciation  of  the  value  of  religious 
ordinances,  and  evidently  so  very  great  a  readiness  to  provide  places 

[270] 


fe-.--^-..j^^l^ 


for  their  due  celebration,  that  one  cannot  without  a  blush  think 
upon  the  vast  difference  which  such  a  city  as  Manchester  displays, 
with  its  almost  countless  thousands  of  poor  wretches  uncared  for  and 
unthought  of,  and  without  any  power  of  putting  foot  even  in  the 
sanctuaries  of  their  God. 

In  the  great  Middle  Age  cities  this  never  could  have  been  the 
case,  for  apart  from  the  fact  that  their  churches  stood  with  their 
doors  ever  open,  while  ours  are  ever  jealously  kept  shut,  they  were 
so  vast  and  spacious,  and  so  crowded  together,  as  it  seems  to  us, 
that  there  never  could  have  been  a  real  difficulty  in  finding  some 
home  for  the  feet  of  the  weary,  how  poor  and  how  miserable  soever 
they  might  bel 

And  Liibeck  still  shows  this  most  grandly:  you  approach  by  a 
railway  through  an  uninteresting  country,  passing  one  of  those 
lakes  which  give  much  of  its  character  to  this  dreary  part  of  Ger- 
many, and  suddenly  dashing  through  a  cutting,  and  under  the 
shade  of  fine  patriarchal  trees  which  adorn  on  all  sides  the  out- 
skirts of  the  old  city,  you  find  yourself  in  such  a  presence  of  towers 
and  spires  as  can  scarce  be  seen  elsewhere  in  Christendom.  A  suc- 
cession of  great  churches  standing  up  high  and  grand  above  the 
picturesque  tall  old  houses  which  fringe  the  margin  of  the  Trave, 
two  of  them  presenting  to  us  their  immense  west  fronts  of  pure  red 
brick,  each  finished  with  two  great  towers  and  spires,  whilst  others 
on  either  side  rear  their  single  spires  and  their  turrets  high  against 
the  sky,  and  here  and  there  detached  turrets  mark  where  stands 
some  other  old  building  soon  to  be  made  acquaintance  with;  and 
all  of  these  forming  the  background,  as  you  first  see  it,  to  the  most 
picturesque  and  grand  old  gateway  —  I  am  bold  to  say  —  in  Europe, 
gives  one  a  wonderful  impression,  vivid  but  dreamlike,  and  remind- 
ing one  of  those  lovely  cities  with  which  Memling  and  his  contem- 
porary painters  so  often  delight  our  eyes. 

The  plan  of  the  city  is  simple  enough.  One  great  street  runs  the 
whole  length  of  the  peninsula  on  which  it  stands,  from  north  to 
south,  finished  by  the  Burg-Thor,  a  fine  old  gateway,  on  the  north, 
and  by  the  cathedral  and  its  close  to  the  south.  Right  and  left  of 
this  main  street  are  a  multitude  of  streets  descending  to  the  water 
which  almost  surrounds  the  whole  town,  and  on  the  other  side  of 
the  water  are  immense  earth-works,  rising  really  into  respectable 
hills,  and  said  to  be  the  largest  earth-works  known;  happily  these 
great  mounds— no  longer  useful  for  purposes  of  defence— are 
eminently  so  for  ornament,  and  planted  with  great  trees  and  laid 
out  with  walks  and  gardens  form  one  of  the  most  pleasant  features 
of  the  place;  on  the  outer  side  of  those  earth-works  another  line  of 
water  gives  one  certainly  a  very  watery  impression  of  the  whole  city. 

The  main  features  of  interest  to  an  architect  are  in  the  principal 

[271] 


street.  Beginning  at  the  extreme  south  is  the  cathedral  with  its 
two  towers  and  spires  standing  alone  and  forlorn  in  the  most  de- 
serted part  of  the  town,  and  even  in  the  busiest  days  of  Lubeck 
scarcely  so  near  to  the  bulk  of  the  people  as  a  cathedral  should  ever 
be;  then  on  either  side  we  pass  the  churches  of  S.  Giles  and  S.  Peter, 
and  going  along  under  the  walls  of  the  picturesque  old  Rathhaus 
find  ourselves  close  to  the  east  end  of  the  Marien-Kirche  —  a  cathe- 
dral in  dignity  of  proportions  and  outline,  and  here  superior  to  the 
cathedral  in  its  central  position  and  in  its  greater  height  and  general 
magnificence;  next,  the  Katerinen-Kirche  is  left  a  few  steps  to  the 
right,  then  S.  James's  is  passed,  another  tall  spire,  and  then  the 
west  front  of  the  very  interesting  Heiligen  Geist  Hospital;  and  a 
hundred  yards  further  on  we  are  in  front  of  the  relics  of  the  Burg- 
Kloster,  and  close  to  this  find  ourselves  at  the  Burg-Thor,  a  pic- 
turesque gateway  second  only  in  effect  to  the  Holsteiner  gate  which 
I  have  before  mentioned  as  terminating  one  of  the  cross  streets 
which  lead  to  the  railway.  The  Burg-Thor  stands  just  at  the  neck 
of  the  peninsula,  and  beyond  it  is  the  Burg-Feld,  a  wood  intersected 
with  paths,  and  looking  rather  like  the  Thier-Garten  outside  the 
Brandenburg  gate  at  Berlin. 

And  now  to  describe  the  architectural  beauties  of  the  town  we 
must  go  back  to  the  cathedral,  and  as  in  duty  bound  begin  with 
what  is  at  once  the  oldest  and  the  chief  in  rank  of  the  ecclesiastical 
buildings. 

The  tradition  is  that  this  church,  dedicated  in  honour  of  SS. 
John  Baptist  and  Nicolas,  is  built  on  the  spot  where  Henry  the  Lion, 
when  engaged  in  the  chase,  fell  in  with  a  stag  having  a  cross  grow- 
ing between  its  horns  and  a  collar  of  jewels  round  its  neck,  with  the 
produce  of  which  the  church  was  first  in  part  built.  There  is  some 
account  of  a  church  older  than  this,  and  octangular  in  form,  having 
existed  near  the  cathedral  about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century;  it  cannot  however  have  been  older  by  many  years  than 
some  parts  of  the  cathedral,  as  the  first  foundation  of  the  present 
city  seems  to  have  been  laid  in  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century, 
and  the  cathedral  was  consecrated  in  a.d.  1170  by  Henry,  the  third 
Bishop  of  Lubeck,  having  been  founded  by  Henry  the  Lion,  who  in 
A.D.  1154  translated  Gerold,  Bishop  of  Oldenburg,  and  made  him 
the  first  Bishop  of  Lubeck;  possibly  the  destroyed  octangular 
church  may  have  been  the  baptistery  of  the  cathedral,  as  at  this 
date  baptisteries  of  this  shape  are  not  unfrequently  met  (e.  g.  at 
Cremona  and  Pisa),  and  I  know  of  but  one  case  of  a  church  of  such 
a  plan. 

Of  the  present  cathedral,  the  most  ancient  portions  appear  to 
be  the  lower  part  of  the  steeples  and  the  main  arcades  throughout. 
These  are  all  Romanesque,  though  under  the  original  arches  pointed 

[272] 


arches  have  been  since  inserted.  The  piers  are  heavy  and  square, 
and  the  whole  effect  is  poor  and  ungainly. 

Next  in  date  is  a  magnificent  porch  on  the  north  side  of  the  north 
transept,  which  is  altogether  about  the  best  piece  of  architecture  in 
LiJbeck,  and  remarkable  as  showing  much  more  freedom  in  the  use 
of  stone  than  is  found  elsewhere.  The  shafts  are  of  marble,  and  the 
arches  and  groining-ribs  are  all  of  stone,  and,  on  the  exterior,  stone 
capitals  and  shafts  are  also  used,  whilst  the  brick  work  is  far  superior 
to  that  in  any  of  the  later  examples.  I  fear  I  must  say  that  this 
one  remnant  of  the  art  of  the  thirteenth  century  is  by  far  the  most 
beautiful  thing  now  left  in  the  city.  The  sculpture  on  the  inner 
door  is  very  masterly  in  its  character,  but  unfortunately  the  whole 
porch  is  now  most  neglected  and  uncared  for. 

Besides  this  porch  there  is  little  to  notice  in  the  exterior,  save 
that  the  brick  work  of  the  transept  front  over  the  porch  savours  of 
the  Italian  mode  of  treating  gables  with  deep  cornices  and  traceries, 
and  that  the  two  great  brick  steeples  at  the  west  end  are  fine  examples 
of  a  kind  of  steeple  of  which  the  city  possesses  however  others  much 
finer.    The  spires  are  not  ancient;  the  whole  exterior  is  of  red  brick. 

In  the  interior  of  the  church  the  most  interesting  features  are 
the  choir-screen  and  loft,  and  the  rood.  The  screen  stands  at  the 
east  side  of  the  transept  crossing,  whilst  the  rood  is  supported  on 
an  elaborately  carved  beam,  which  spans  the  western  arch  of  the 
crossing,  and  the  effect  is  most  singular  and  certainly  very  piquant; 
the  whole  being  in  a  very  late  but  good  style,  with  figures  remark- 
ably well  sculptured.  Under  the  screen  is  an  altar,  and  on  either 
side  still  remains  another.  They  are  of  stone  supported  on  brick 
work,  and  there  is  no  mark  of  piscina,  or  of  lockers,  or  places  for 
relics  in  them.  The  rood,  and  the  figures  of  SS.  Mary  and  John, 
are  on  a  very  large  scale,  so  that  altogether,  with  their  supports,  they 
reach  nearly  the  whole  height  of  the  arch  under  which  they  stand. 

There  are  also  throughout  the  nave  of  the  cathedral  a  number  of 
very  curious  seats;  they  vary  a  good  deal  in  detail,  but  their  out- 
line is  similar,  and  their  effect  rather  striking;  I  confess,  however, 
that  I  was  sorry  to  see  examples  of  fixed  seats  of  such  a  date  in  a 
cathedral  church.  In  the  nave  there  are  some  pendents  for  candles; 
one  an  angel  holding  a  light,  and  strongly  reminding  one  of  those 
beautiful  angels  with  candles  above  the  stalls  in  the  choir  of  S. 
Laurence  at  Nuremberg;  and  the  other,  a  much  more  elaborate 
composition,  and  coloured  richly  in  gold,  red,  and  blue;  it  has  two 
sitting  figures  of  Bishops  under  canopies,  and  bears  three  very  large 
candles.  One  of  the  great  treasures  of  this  church  is  the  magnifi- 
cent brass  to  Bishop  Johann  von  Mull,  and  Bishop  Burchard  von 
Serken,  who  deceased  in  1350  and  1317.  I  was  unable  to  make  so 
careful  a  rubbing  of  this  magnificent  brass  as  I  could  have  wished, 

[273] 


but  I  have  done  enough  to  show  how  grand  it  is,  and  how  very  simi- 
lar in  its  details  to  the  famous  Flemish  brasses  which  remain  at 
Lynn,  S.  Albans,  North  Mymms,  Wensley,  and  Newark.  Like  two 
of  these,  of  which  we  fortunately  possess  rubbings,  it  is  remarkable 
for  being  one  great  engraved  plate,  and  not,  as  was  the  English  cus- 
tom, a  plate  cut  out  to  the  shape  of  the  figure,  and  then  inserted  in 
an  incised  slab;  and  compared  with  the  S.  Albans  brass,  which 
hangs  by  its  side,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  detail  is  so  exactly  similar, 
that  there  can  scarcely  be  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  they  were  both 
engraved  by  the  same  man.  It  is  perhaps  altogether  the  finest  of 
the  whole,  and  if  so,  perhaps  the  finest  brass  in  Europe.  It  is  appre- 
ciated by  the  sacristan,  who  demands  a  fee  for  lifting  up  a  cover 
which  he  keeps  on  it,  and  whose  temper  was  of  so  difficult  a  kind 
that  I  almost  despaired  being  allowed  to  rub  it.  However,  by  per- 
severing, I  at  last  succeeded. 

Lastly,  there  is  in  a  chapel  on  the  north  side  of  the  nave  a  most 
magnificent  triptych  by  Memling,  almost  unequalled  by  any  work 
of  his  I  have  ever  seen.  It  has  double  shutters;  on  the  outer,  figures 
of  SS.  Blaise,  Giles,  John,  and  Jerome,  and  inside  are  painted  the 
Crucifixion,  and  a  number  of  subjects  from  the  Passion  of  our  Lord, 
all  worked  together  into  one  grand  picture  in  a  manner  favourite 
with  painters  of  Memling's  time,  and  not  to  be  contemned  because 
no  longer  the  custom  of  our  artists,  inasmuch  as  Memling,  Van 
Eyck,  Giotto,  and  their  contemporaries  all  did  it,  and  what  they 
did  we  may  well  believe  not  to  have  been  done  without  good  reason. 
The  expression  of  all  the  faces  is  most  careful,  and  the  skill  with 
which  portraits  are  preserved  throughout  all  the  subjects,  as  e.  g. 
of  S.  Peter,  of  Judas,  and  of  our  Lord,  is  very  marvellous.  They 
were  obviously  painted  from  actual  faces,  and  not  imagined.  The 
colour  of  the  whole  is  generally  very  rich  and  deep,  the  drawing  very 
vigorous,  and  the  whole  forms  one  of  the  most  magnificent  speci- 
mens it  is  possible  to  imagine  of  the  early  German  school. 

I  have  forgotten  to  say  that  the  font  in  the  cathedral  is  of  metal. 
It  is  a  bowl  arcaded  and  supported  on  four  figures  of  angels;  but 
it  is  not  very  good  in  its  character;  perhaps  we  might  think  much 
of  it  here,  but  in  northern  Germany,  where  I  had  just  been  seeing 
the  wonderful  fonts  at  Munster,  Brunswick,  and  above  all  at  Hil- 
desheim,  the  metal  fonts  at  Lubeck  struck  me  as  looking  very  poor. 

I  happened  to  come  in  for  the  end  of  a  week-day  sermon  here, 
and  was  rather  amused,  after  it  was  finished,  to  find  the  Prediger 
descending  from  the  pulpit,  and  directing  his  steps  towards  me, 
whilst  the  people  went  on  singing:  however,  he  turned  into  a  great 
sort  of  glazed  pew  in  the  choir-aisle,  and  there,  having  shut  himself 
in,  he  enthroned  himself  in  a  comfortable  chair,  waited  for  about 
ten  minutes  until  the  sound  of  singing  and  music  had  died  away, 

[274] 


and  then  stole  back  and  out  of  the  church  at  the  west.  It  is  curious, 
in  northern  Germany,  to  observe  how  entirely,  in  public  ministra- 
tions, the  Lutheran  ministers  seem  to  consider  preaching  their  only 
work;  going  in  after  the  preparatory  hymn  is  sung,  and  going  away 
as  soon  as  their  sermon  is  finished,  without  regard  to  the  hymn 
which  always  winds  up  their  functions.  In  Liibeck  there  was  a 
curious  madness  about  preaching:  every  morning,  between  eight 
and  nine,  there  seemed  to  be  sermons  going  on;  and  as  the  congre- 
gations are  infinitesimal,  they  do  all  they  can  to  keep  a  stray  lis- 
tener, when  they  can  have  him  within  their  walls,  by  locking  the 
doors.  Happily,  I  escaped,  by  judicious  management,  the  sad  fate 
of  listening  to  a  sermon  from  any  of  these  divines  in  black  cloaks 
and  immense  white  frills,  who  look  like  so  many  repetitions  of  their 
great  prototype,  Luther. 

And  now  I  must  leave  the  cathedral,  and  getting  over  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  horrible  pavement  which  distinguishes  this  end  of  the 
city  as  well  as  may  be,  take  you  to  the  Marien-Kirche;  the  church 
which,  in  one's  first  view  of  Liibeck,  one  naturally  takes  for  the 
cathedral,  from  its  central  position  and  general  grandeur.  The 
whole  church  is  built  of  red  brick,  though  unfortunately,  internally, 
it  has  been  daubed  all  over  with  a  succession  of  coats  of  whitewash. 
I  was  able  to  measure  the  ground-plan,  which  may  be  taken  as  a 
type  of  the  ground-plan  most  in  favour  in  Lubeck,  and  indeed  gen- 
erally in  this  part  of  Germany.  All  the  columns,  arches,  groining- 
ribs,  and  even  the  window  tracery,  are  built  of  moulded  bricks; 
and,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  detail,  the  piers  and  arches  are  partic- 
ularly well  moulded  and  good.  Not  so  the  window  tracery,  which 
is  very  plain,  and  like  all  brick  window  tracery,  most  unsatisfactory, 
consisting  as  it  does  of  three  arched  heads  within  the  window  arch, 
without  cusping  or  ornament  of  any  kind  to  relieve  its  baldness. 
The  transepts  hardly  show  on  the  ground-plan,  and  externally  they 
are  finished  with  two  gables  instead  of  one,  and  are  so  insignificant, 
consequently,  as  hardly  to  deserve  notice.  Between  the  buttresses 
all  round  is  a  row  of  chapels,  their  external  walls  being  flush  with 
the  face  of  the  buttresses.  Among  other  good  features  in  this  church 
are  the  Lady-chapel  to  the  east  of  the  main  apse,  and  the  late  turret 
over  the  intersection  of  nave  and  choir;  and  lastly,  the  two  grand 
steeples  at  the  west  end.  This  kind  of  steeple  was  not  an  invention 
peculiar  to  Lubeck,  but  is  a  kind  of  which  one  finds  many  examples 
throughout  northern  Germany.  The  earliest  with  which  I  am  ac- 
quainted are  at  Soest  and  Paderborn  cathedrals,  both  of  them  very 
fine,  and  much  earlier  in  date  than  the  Lubeck  examples;  and  these 
clearly  have  some  affinity  to  the  Lombard  churches  on  the  Rhine, 
save  that  the  continual  repetition  of  stage  above  stage,  exactly  alike, 
is  a  feature  of  their  own,  and  one  which  the  builders  of  the  great 

[275] 


brick  steeples  in  tlie  fourteenth  century  always  had  before  them. 
Certainly,  the  two  western  steeples  of  the  Marien-Kirche  are  very 
noble,  and  make  one  admire  immensely  this  kind  of  spire,  which,  as 
you  will  see,  rises  from  the  angles  of  the  tower  and  the  points  of  the 
gables,  which  are  so  great  a  feature  as  a  finish  to  each  face  of  the 
tower.  These  great  gables  are  generally  filled  in  with  tracery,  with- 
out much  regard  to  uniformity  or  symmetry,  but  sometimes,  as 
in  the  noble  steeple  of  S.  John,  Liineburg,  most  effective:  the  spires 
in  this  case,  and  indeed  almost  always,  are  of  timber  covered  with 
copper. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  plan  that  the  dimensions  of  this  church 
are  very  grand.  The  length  is  280  English  feet;  height  to  vault, 
108  ft.;  height  of  aisles,  59  ft. ;  the  spires,  344  ft. 

The  church  was  founded  circa  a.d.  1276,  the  north-west  tower  in 
1304,  and  the  south-west  in  1310;  and  the  whole  may,  I  think, 
from  its  mouldings,  etc.,  be  taken  as  an  example  of  Lubeck  middle- 
pointed. 

In  the  interior  arrangement  there  is  no  very  distinct  triforium, 
though  the  clerestory  windows  have  their  inside  arches  lengthened 
down  to  a  string-course  above  the  main  arcade,  and  in  the  choir 
there  is  a  pierced  parapet  above  this  string. 

The  east  window  of  the  main  apse,  and  the  east  windows  of  the 
eastern  chapel,  are  filled  with  exceedingly  brilliant  stained  glass, 
said  to  be  the  work  of  an  Italian;  it  was  brought  in  1818  from  the 
Burg-Kloster  church,  which  was  destroyed  at  that  time,  and  which, 
judging  from  what  still  remains,  and  from  the  relics  of  its  art  treas- 
ures, preserved  here  and  elsewhere,  must  have  been  one  of  the 
most  interesting  churches  in  the  city.  The  three  windows  contain 
the  legend  of  S.  Jerome,  the  legend  of  the  finding  of  the  Cross, 
and  the  legend  of  S.  Peter.  They  are  said  to  have  been  done  by 
the  son  of  Dominic  Livi,  of  Ghambasso,  near  Florence,  who,  after 
he  had  learnt  his  art  and  long  practised  it  in  Lubeck,  went  back 
in  1436  to  Florence,  where  he  executed  the  celebrated  windows  in 
the  Duomo.  I  have  never  seen  these  Florentine  windows,  but, 
judging  from  my  knowledge  of  the  very  mediocre  character  of 
Italian  glass  generally,  I  should  say  that  there  could  be  no  improb- 
ability on  the  face  of  a  story  which  would  account  for  really  beau- 
tiful glass  being  done  at  Florence.  Certainly,  this  Lubeck  glass  is 
very  good  and  brilliant,  and  valuable,  as  being,  with  a  little  still 
preserved  in  one  of  the  windows  of  the  Katerinen-Kirche,  the  only 
old  glass  preserved  in  any  of  the  churches  in  Lubeck. 

The  nave  of  S.  Mary  is  pewed  throughout,  and  encumbered  at 
the  west  end  with  a  prodigious  organ;  but  the  choir  is  fairly  per- 
fect. It  is  screened  in  on  all  sides;  to  the  west  by  means  of  a  rood- 
screen,  similar  in  plan  to  that  at  the  cathedral,  but  of  earlier  date, 

[276] 


and  at  the  sides  with  screens  mainly  composed  of  brass.  These 
screens  are  very  common  in  all  the  churches  here,  but  these  are  the 
best  I  have  seen:  they  are  very  late  in  date,  not  at  all  satisfactory 
in  their  design,  and  in  all  cases  the  cornices  and  the  lower  part  of 
the  screens  are  of  oak,  the  brass-work  being  confined  to  the  uprights 
and  the  tracery,  if  tracery  it  can  be  called. 

In  the  choir  there  is  a  magnificent  metal  Sakraments-Haus,  very 
elaborate,  and  full  of  most  delicate  work;  it  has  been  shamefully 
damaged,  but  enough  remains  to  make  one  class  it  with  the  best 
of  these  often  beautiful  pieces  of  church  furniture.  About  twenty 
feet  in  height,  it  stands  on  lions*  backs,  and  finishes  at  the  top  with 
the  Crucifixion. 

One  of  the  relics  still  preserved  in  this  church  is  a  Dance  of 
Death,  in  a  series  of  twenty-five  paintings  round  the  walls  of  a  chapel 
which  forms  part  of  the  north  transept;  it  is  a  very  complete  paint- 
ing, and  its  date,  which  is  said  to  be  a.d.  1463,  makes  it  one  of  the 
earliest  paintings  of  this  very  curious  subject.  Mr.  Douce,  in  his 
treatise  on  the  Dance  of  Death,  mentions  older  examples  at  Minden, 
in  the  churchyard  of  the  Innocents  at  Paris,  in  the  cloister  of  the 
S.  Chapelle  at  Dijon,  and  that  at  Basle,  which  is  the  most  famous 
of  all.  Most,  if  not  all  of  these,  are,  however,  now  destroyed, 
and  the  interest  of  this  painting  becomes  therefore  the  greater.  It 
is  certainly  very  valuable;  if  for  no  other  reason,  for  the  variety  of 
costume,  of  every  rank  and  order  of  men,  which  it  contains,  begin- 
ning with  the  pope,  the  emperor,  empress,  cardinal,  king,  bishop, 
duke,  abbat,  and  so  on  to  the  young  woman  and  the  little  child. 

Besides  these  paintings  are  two  by  Overbeck:  one  in  the  Lady- 
chapel,  finished  in  1824,  of  our  Lord's  entry  into  Jerusalem,  is  cer- 
tainly very  beautiful,  in  its  calm  simplicity  and  purity  of  colour, 
reminding  one  much  of  Raffaelle's  early  style,  or  of  some  work  of 
that  great  Christian  artist,  Perugino;  and  therefore  most  grateful 
to  me,  and  far  more  pleasing  than  the  other,  which  is  a  Piet^,  painted 
in  1847,  and  in  a  thoroughly  different  and  much  more  naturalistic 
style.  In  the  first  painting  the  Lubeck  people  recognise  and  point 
out,  with  no  little  pride,  Overbeck's  father,  mother,  and  sisters,  all 
of  them  — as  also  the  great  artist  himself —natives  of  Lubeck, 
and  perhaps  fairly  enough  introduced  in  this  his  offering  to  his 
native  town.  A  lion  of  the  Marien-Kirche  is  the  clock  — one  of 
those  clumsy  pieces  of  ingenuity  which  so  often  annoy  one  on  the 
Continent.  There  is  also  a  metal  font,  said  to  have  been  made  in 
1337  by  one  Hans  Apengeter;  but  like  that  at  the  cathedral,  not 
very  satisfactory. 

After  these  two  great  churches,  certainly  by  far  the  most  inter- 
esting church  is  that  of  the  Minorite  convent,  S.  Katharine,  which 
is  in  many  ways  so  remarkable,  as  to  leave  perhaps  a  stronger  im- 

[277] 


pression  on  one's  mind  than  anything  else  in  the  city.  It  is  a  dese- 
crated church,  but  desecrated  happily  in  a  quiet  way;  unused,  and 
not  much  cared  for,  but  as  yet  not  destroyed,  and  serving  now  only 
as  a  kind  of  museum  of  old  church  furniture,  great  store  of  which, 
from  the  Burg-Kloster  church  and  elsewhere,  is  accumulated  in 
its  choir. 

The  date  of  the  foundation  of  this  church  is  given  on  an  inscrip- 
tion near  the  door  as  a.d.  1335,  and  its  founder  Bishop  Henry  Bock- 
holt;  but  an  old  chronicler,  Reimar  Cock,  says  that  the  guardian 
of  the  church.  Brother  Emeke,  pulled  down  the  church  in  1351, 
and  rebuilt  it  in  three  years  more  beautifully  than  before,  with  the 
alms  which,  during  the  time  of  the  plague,  were  given  to  the  monks. 

I  have  drawn  out  the  plan  of  this  church,  and,  with  the  help  of 
my  sketches,  this  may,  I  trust,  explain  its  extraordinary  arrange- 
ment. This  consists  in  the  elevation  of  the  choir,  with  a  kind  of 
crypt  below  it,  above  the  floor  of  the  rest  of  the  church;  the  floor 
of  the  crypt  being  level  with  that  of  the  nave,  and  divided  into 
three  widths  with  slender  shafts,  the  whole  groined,  and  when 
seen  from  the  nave,  presenting  certainly  one  of  the  most  striking 
and  curious  interiors  I  have  ever  met  with.  The  west  end  of  the 
under  church  opens  to  the  nave  with  three  arches,  looking  just  like 
the  ordinary  arrangement  of  rood-screens  in  Liibeck;  and  this  is 
just  what  it  is:  the  whole  choir  is  simply  a  prolongation  eastwards 
of  the  rood-loft,  and  at  the  west  end  there  is  a  raised  screen  sur- 
mounting the  three  arches,  out  of  which  rises  a  most  magnificent 
and  perfect  rood,  with  SS.  Mary  and  John  on  either  side.  The 
entire  absence  of  seats  in  the  nave,  the  great  height  of  the  church, 
the  darkness  of  the  long  vista  of  arch  and  column  under  the  choir, 
and  the  magnificence  of  the  rood,  make  this  interior  one  of  the 
most  satisfactory  and  least  altered  things  I  know;  and  if  its  arrange- 
ment is  not  absolutely  unique,  it  is  certainly  not  far  from  being  so. 
In  England  I  know  nothing  at  all  like  it,  unless  such  an  example 
as  the  little  church  at  Compton,  near  Guildford,  be  taken,  in  which 
there  are  indeed  some  points  of  similarity— the  low  sanctuary, 
with  its  groined  roof,  and  the  chapel  above  opening  to  the  church, 
and  fenced  in  with  its  low  Romanesque  screen-work;  all  this, 
though  on  a  far  smaller  scale,  certainly  tallies  curiously  with  this 
Minorite  church  at  Liibeck.^ 


^  I  need  not  say,  to  those  who  know  the  north  of  Germany,  that 
the  arrangement  of  this  church  is,  after  all,  only  an  exaggeration  of 
a  not  uncommon  plan.  The  cathedrals  at  Hildesheim  and  Naum- 
burg,  the  Liebfrauen-Kirche  at  Halberstadt,  and  many  others,  have 
crypts,  whose  floor  is  but  little  lower  than  the  floor  of  the  church, 
whilst  the  floors  of  their  choirs  are  raised  immensely,  and  so  shut  in 

[278] 


An  iron  grill  shuts  off  the  chapels  at  the  east  end  of  the  under 
church,  and  in  the  centre  of  these  is  a  fine  brass,  of  which  I  obtained 
a  rubbing.  It  is  to  a  member  of  the  Liineburg  family,  and  contains 
the  figure  of  the  burgomaster  John  Luneburg,  who  died  in  the 
last  quarter  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  inscriptions  are  curious, 
the  name,  etc.,  all  in  Latin,  ending  with  "  Bidde  God  vor  em";  and 
another  ending  "Orate:  ah  werltdu  hest  mi  bedragen!"  It  will  be 
seen  from  the  drawing  of  the  interior  that  the  whole  detail  is  of  a 
very  severe  kind, —  all  brick,  and  alas!  all  whitewashed.  The 
access  to  the  choir  is  by  a  staircase  in  the  south  aisle,  which  did  not 
appear  to  me  to  be  old.  There  is  a  space  of  some  ten  or  twelve 
feet  between  the  west  side  of  the  rood-loft  and  the  choir-stalls,  which 
are  returned;  and  into  this  space  the  staircase  leads.  The  stalls 
are  old,  and  very  good;  and  the  whole  pavement  of  the  upper  choir 
is  of  tiles,  of  a  peculiar  and  interesting  kind,  if  only  for  its  novelty. 
The  only  pattern  tiles  are  in  the  borders,  the  remainder  are  green, 
black,  red,  and  light  red,  made  in  various  shapes,  and  very  good  in 
their  effect.  One  of  the  chapels  in  the  Marien-Kirche  is  similarly 
paved,  but  not  on  so  grand  a  scale,  or  with  so  many  patterns.  The 
only  pavements  at  all  approaching  to  the  same  kind  which  at  the 
present  moment  I  can  call  to  mind,  are  that  which  has  been  so 
strangely  —  as  it  were  providentially  —  preserved  in  the  footpace 
on  which  once  stood  the  high  altar  at  Fountains  Abbey,  perfect 
and  untouched,  where  all  else  is  ruin  and  desolation;  —  and  in  those 
most  lovely  marble  pavements  in  S.  Anastasia,  at  Verona.  Some 
of  the  arrangements  of  the  patterns  approach  very  near  to  these, 
but  how  much  more  beautiful  the  marble  of  Verona  is  than  the 
tiles  of  Lubeck  one  can  hardly  say. 

And  with  this  ends  all  that  one  knows  as  positively  belonging  to 
S.  Katharine;  for  in  this  unused  choir  is  now  a  store  of  triptychs  of 
that  kind  which,  after  some  acquaintance  with  German  churches, 
one  learns  to  tire  of,  covered  with  carving,  quaint,  and  richly  col- 
oured, or  painted  in  Scripture  story  or  strange  legend,  well  enough 
in  their  proper  place,  and  giving  once  doubtless  great  dignity  to  the 
altars  they  adorned,  but  here  —  collected  and  set  out  for  view  as 
a  gallery  of  paintings—  if  not  worthless,  at  best  very  unsatisfactory. 
But  besides  all  these  triptychs,  there  is  a  large  aumbrye,  with  its 
old  iron  gates  and  locks  still  perfect,  in  which  is  a  large  collection  of 
portions  of  monstrances,  chalices,  crosses,  and  the  like:   many  of 


with  solid  stone  screens  and  parcloses,  that  little  can  be  seen  of 
them  from  the  naves.  The  crypt  at  Wimborne  Minster  Is  a  rare 
instance  of  the  same  kind  of  thing  in  England;  but  this  is  a  middle- 
pointed  contrivance  for  creating  a  crypt  in  a  first-pointed  church, 
which  was  never  intended  to  have  anything  of  the  kind. 

[279] 


them  very  beautiful,  but  all  damaged  and  in  fragments.  Among 
other  things  I  saw  a  curious  leather  bag  for  carrying  books,  with 
an  ingenious  pocket  for  money  contrived  in  its  folds  and  very  se- 
curely fastened. 

But  what  is  most  rare  and  curious  is  a  collection  of  ancient  linen 
altar-cloths,  which  I  had  great  trouble  in  getting  a  sight  of,  and 
which  I  could  not  draw,  as  the  curator  of  the  museum  insisted  on 
showing  them  himself,  and  when  I  wished  to  draw  them,  told  me 
that  he  had  already  himself  drawn  them:  this,  as  may  be  imagined, 
was  a  very  poor  source  of  comfort  to  me. 

There  was  a  corporal  about  2  feet  square,  and  fringed;  along  the 
edge  of  which  was  worked  an  arcade  with  figures  of  saints,  the 
dresses  stitched  in  a  regular  pattern  all  over,  and  the  folds  left 
plain:  the  date  of  this  was  about  A.D.  1280.  There  was  another 
embroidered  corporal  which  I  managed  to  get  a  drawing  of:  this 
was  2  feet  square,  with  a  large  cross  in  the  centre  and  four  smaller 
crosses  in  the  corners;  the  whole  worked  in  a  cross-stitch  with  blue 
and  red  on  the  white  linen.    Date,  I  think,  about  1450. 

Then  there  were  two  linen  cloths  for  the  altar:  one,  14  ft.  long  by 
3  ft.  10  in.  wide,  with  a  great  number  of  figures  of  prophets  sur- 
rounded with  branching  foliage;  from  the  character  of  the  figures, 
I  date  this  at  about  A.D.  1400.  All  the  outlines  of  the  figures,  leaves, 
etc.  were  marked  with  coloured  ink  borders  on  the  linen  before  the 
work  was  done:  the  hair  and  points  of  the  dresses  here  and  there 
were  marked  with  bright  colour,  but  generally  the  work  was  all  in 
white  thread, —  the  stitches  rather  long,  and  arranged  in  regular 
patterns  and  diapers. 

Another  linen  cloth  of  the  same  size  has  the  whole  history  of 
Reynard  the  Fox:  a  curious  subject,  it  may  be  thought,  for  an  altar- 
cloth;  but  I  may  remark  that  I  found  the  same  subject  in  the  bosses 
of  the  under  church. 

Besides  this  there  was  a  magnificent  linen  dalmatic  with  apparels 
beautifully  worked  and  fringed  with  white,  red,  white,  blue,  alter- 
nately. The  orphreys  had  been  taken  off.  The  apparels  of  the 
sleeves  were  a  succession  of  medallions,  six  to  each  sleeve,  con- 
taining the  Twelve  Apostles,  and  the  apparel  at  the  bottom  of 
the  dalmatic  had  in  front  our  Lord  and  two  saints,  and  at  the  back 
S.  Mary  the  Virgin,  SS.  Peter  and  Paul.  The  work  was  most  beau- 
tiful, and,  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

I  believe  there  were  other  things  of  the  same  kind,  but  I  fear  my 
curiosity  rather  disgusted  the  curator,  who  was  not  very  anxious 
to  let  me  see  very  much  of  these  precious  and  invaluable  relics. 

The  exterior  of  S.  Katharine  will  be  best  understood  by  my 
sketches.  The  most  noticeable  fact  is  that  some  of  the  tracery  in 
the  eastern  part  is  of  stone  enclosed  within  a  brick  arch,  and  ex- 

[  280  ] 


ceedingly  good  in  its  effect;  proving  satisfactorily  that  this  is  the 
real  way  to  use  brick  and  stone  together.  There  is  no  comparison 
between  these  windows  and  all  the  other  windows  in  Lubeck.  The 
rest  are  all  ugly:   these  quite  beautiful. 

The  transept  has  a  double  gable,  as  in  the  Marien-Kirche,  and 
internally  is  arranged  like  an  aisle  rather  than  a  transept.  The  west 
front  is  curious  and  indescribable:  an  irregular  assemblage  of  ar- 
cades and  windows  without  order  or  definiteness,  but  withal  very 
effective.  And  as  will  be  seen  from  the  ground-plan,  the  north  aisle 
being  much  narrower  than  the  south  produces  of  necessity  a  great 
irregularity  in  the  whole  elevation,  and  this  irregularity  is  so  care- 
fully managed  as  really  completely  to  conceal  the  awkwardness 
which  would  otherwise  be  very  apparent.  There  is  no  tower,  only 
a  turret  on  the  roof,  at  the  intersection  of  nave,  choir,  and  transept 
roofs. 

In  buildings  connected  with  the  church  is  a  large  library,  some 
cartoons  of  Overbeck's,  and  some  work  of  Godfrey  Kneller's,  he, 
as  well  as  Over  beck,  having  been  born  here. 

The  other  churches  are  not  very  remarkable.  S.  Peter's  has  a 
good  steeple  with  metal  turrets  at  the  base  of  the  spire,  and  I  believe 
there  is  a  fine  brass  there,  but  I  failed  to  see  it. 

S.  James  has  a  very  plain  brick  tower,  and  a  good  triapsidal  east 
end,  very  much  like  that  of  S.  Katharine.  The  steeple  is  crowned 
with  a  modern  spire:  inside  there  is  a  late  metal  font,  of  the  kind 
popular  in  Lubeck— a  large  vat-like  vessel  standing  on  the  backs 
of  four  kneeling  angels,  and  covered  with  small  and  ineffective 
arcading  with  figures  and  subjects.  There  is  a  large  organ  of  rather 
early  date,  and  two  curious  standard  lanterns  for  carrying  lights 
in  procession:  they  are  of  very  late  date,  but  still  so  rare  as  to  be 
worth  notice. 

S.  Giles  has  no  one  feature  of  interest,  save  its  very  fine  tower 
and  spire. 

Of  the  hospitals  the  most  curious  is  the  Heiligen-Geist-Spital: 
the  ground-plan  and  general  arrangement  of  which  are  most  re- 
markable. The  chapel  is  the  oblong  building  at  the  west  end,  only 
two  bays  in  length,  but  of  great  width:  against  its  east  wall  is  a 
rood-screen  and  loft,  under  which  is  the  altar,  and,  on  either  side  of 
the  altar,  doors  which  admit  every  one  under  the  loft  into  the  hos- 
pital. This,  like  many  of  our  old  hospitals  (S.  Mary's,  Chichester, 
and  Higham  Ferrers,  are  cases  in  point)  is  one  immense  hall,  250  ft. 
long  by  40  ft.  wide,  and  has  down  its  length  two  passages,  and  four 
rows  of  cubicles  for  the  inmates,  and  accommodates  no  less  than  150 
poor  people:  truly  a  most  royal  provision  for  the  poor.  There  is 
an  entrance  at  the  sides,  but  the  main  entrance  is  through  the 
chapel,  through  which  there  is  a  constant  passing,  and  it  is  there- 
[281] 


fore  more  like  a  great  hall  than  a  chapel.  How  much  better  is  the 
ordinary  English  arrangement  (of  which  I  saw  a  grand  example  at 
Luneburg),  in  which  the  chapel  is  at  the  east  end  of  the  hall. 
There  the  chapel  sanctifies  the  whole,  instead  of  being  itself  pro- 
faned, as  is  the  case  at  Lubeck. 

The  hospital  was  founded  by  one  Bertram  Mornewech,  in  a.d. 
1286,  and  is  similar  in  plan,  I  believe,  to  the  great  Gothic  Hospital 
della  Scala  at  Siena. 

In  the  chapel  are  some  brass  screens  like  those  in  the  Marien- 
Kirche,  but  inferior  to  them.  The  west  front  is  remarkable  and 
certainly  very  picturesque,  with  its  three  gables  and  its  multitude 
of  turrets. 

The  most  interesting  building  left  to  be  described  is  the  ruin  of 
the  Burg-Kloster.  This  was  a  Dominican  convent,  and  at  the 
Reformation  was  converted  into  a  hospital  for  the  poor.  In  1818, 
a  portion  of  the  vaulting  of  the  church  fell  in,  and  then  they  pulled 
down  the  rest  of  the  church,  sending  their  stained  glass  and  the  organ 
to  the  Marien-Kirche,  and  their  triptychs  and  altar  furniture  to  the 
Katerinen-Kirche.  The  north  wall  only  of  the  church  now  remains, 
but  this  shows  traces  of  stone  windows  enclosed  within  brick  arches, 
like  those  in  the  apse  of  S.  Katharine,  and  its  destruction  is  there- 
fore specially  to  be  deplored.  The  foundation  dates  from  a.d. 
1229.  The  rest  of  the  conventual  buildings  still  in  great  part  re- 
main, but  so  mixed  up  with  other  and  modern  erections,  that  it  is 
rather  difficult  to  understand  them.. 

There  is,  however,  a  fair  cloister  on  the  north  side  of  the  church, 
groined  throughout  and  tolerably  perfect:  out  of  this,  on  one  side, 
is  a  kind  of  open  groined  stall,  which  looks  something  like  the  am- 
bulatories which  are  so  beautiful  a  feature  of  our  own  abbeys;  and 
out  of  this  ambulatory,  one  enters  a  large  hall  once  apparently 
divided  by  a  row  of  columns  down  the  centre.  North  of  these 
buildings  is  a  room  which  seems  to  have  been  part  of  the  refectory, 
remarkable  for  an  exquisite  pavement  of  small  tiles— red,  black, 
and  white  —  arranged  in  an  ingenious  and  intricate  pattern,  of 
which  I  made  a  careful  drawing.  My  drawing  shows  the  entire 
remaining  portion  of  this  pavement  which,  it  will  be  seen,  contin- 
ued on  beyond  the  present  partition-wall.  A  central  shaft  is  still 
left,  with  an  old  oak  sideboard  framed  round  its  base  in  a  most 
effective  manner.  In  another  part  of  the  Burg-Kloster  there  is  a 
small  fragment  of  similar  pavement,  which  looks  as  if  it  had  been 
the  hearth  under  a  fire. 

Near  S.  Giles's  church  there  is  another  ruined  conventual  build- 
ing, S.  Anne's  Kloster.  This  was  originally  a  nunnery  of  "Claris- 
sernonnen"  (I  suppose  these  were  nuns  of  S.  Clare,  an  order  who 
had  a  few  houses  in  England),  but  has  been  converted  intoa  work- 

[282] 


house.  Unfortunately  a  great  fire  in  1843  consumed  the  church, 
and  left  nothing  but  the  outer  walls  standing,  and  when  I  was  there 
it  was  used  as  a  place  for  the  workhouse  men  to  break  stones  or 
the  roads.  The  church  is  said  to  have  been  designed  and  built  by 
one  Synsingus  Hesse  of  Brunswick,  who  came  to  Lubeck  in  1502 
with  five  assistants,  and  completed  the  work  in  1510.  With  this 
date  the  work  tallies  very  well,  though  I  confess  there  is  no  mark 
of  the  peculiarities  of  a  Brunswick  architect,  which,  as  must  be  known 
to  any  who  have  ever  seen  that  very  remarkable  city,  are  decided 
enough.  Part  of  the  west  front  of  the  church  of  S.  Anne  was  built 
with  courses  of  stone  and  brick,  a  most  unusual  arrangement  in 
Germany,  though  common  enough  in  Italian  pointed,  and  always 
very  striking  in  its  effect;  the  domestic  buildings  retain  a  good  many 
groined  rooms,  and  a  simple  cloister  in  very  perfect  condition. 

We  come  now  to  the  Rathhaus,  whose  long  line  of  picturesque 
front  is  so  great  a  feature  in  the  principal  street  of  the  city.  Its 
history  is  so  confusing  and  its  style  so  peculiar,  that  it  is  very  diffi- 
cult indeed  to  affix  any  certain  date  to  its  various  portions.  It  was 
burnt  down  in  a.d.  1276,  and  there  was  another  fire  in  a.d.  1358. 
In  A.D.  1389  there  were  considerable  works  executed,  including  the 
famous  cellars,  whose  still  more  famous  wine  was  all  cleared  out  by 
the  French,  when  they  sacked  the  good  city  in  A.D.  1806.  The 
portion  of  the  Rathhaus  to  the  south  of  the  market-place  seems 
to  have  been  built  in  1442-44,  and  the  alterations  of  the  Borse 
towards  the  street  in  1570  and  1673;  so  that  we  may  well  expect  a 
confusing  and  picturesque  mixture  of  works  of  various  dates.  The 
earliest  external  portion  appears  to  me  to  be  the  screen  on  the 
north  side  in  front  of  the  two  gabled  roofs;  and  this  and  the  other 
great  screens  or  parapets  towards  the  market-place  and  towards 
the  street  are  the  most  picturesque  portions  of  the  building.  They 
are  entirely  executed  in  red  and  black  brick,  the  cusping  being 
all  done  in  moulded  brick.  As  a  rich  piece  of  colour  this  work  is 
very  valuable,  but  architecturally  its  sole  merit  is  a  kind  of  pictur- 
esqueness,  which  it  certainly  has  in  great  force. 

The  fact  is  that  in  northern  Germany  all  the  domestic  archi- 
tecture was  very  full  of  faults;  the  fronts  of  the  buildings  were  very 
seldom  at  all  ruled  by  the  roof  line,  and  their  stepped  gables,  tra- 
ceried,  mullioned,  and  pinnacled,  had  no  reference  to  anything  save 
a  desire  to  look  well;  and  so  here  some  of  the  most  striking  portions 
of  the  old  Rathhaus  are  done  without  any  regard  to  constructional 
wants,  and  simply  as  masks  of  the  construction;  the  fronts  are  built 
up  to  conceal  the  roofs,  arcaded  and  pinnacled  without  meaning, 
and  in  a  style  very  elaborate  as  compared  with  the  other  brickwork 
throughout  the  city. 

A  sketch  of  perhaps  the  most  magnificent  example  remaining  of 

[283  ] 


north  German  domestic  architecture  —  the  Rathhaus  at  Munster  — 
will  show  you  how,  even  with  the  most  beautiful  detail  and 
the  best  possible  sculpture,  this  faulty  mode  of  designing  was 
always  persisted  in;  from  Munster  in  the  fourteenth  century 
one  may  trace  it  going  into  the  brick  districts  to  the  north  and 
—  as  at  LiJneburg  — filling  entire  towns  with  its  extravagancies, 
and  then  settling  down,  as  we  find  it  at  Lubeck,  into  a  regular  sys- 
tem of  stepped  gables  and  panelled  facades,  beyond  which  the  dream 
of  house-builders  never  went.  I  confess  to  having  been  sorely  dis- 
appointed in  the  street  architecture  of  Lubeck.  In  the  first  place 
everything  except  the  churches,  hospitals,  Rathhaus,  and  gate- 
ways, is  painted  white,  or  whitewashed  in  the  most  ruthless  man- 
ner, and  the  architectural  merit  of  the  houses  before  they  were 
whitewashed  must  have  been  very  small.  The  houses  at  the  side 
of  the  Heiligen-Geist-Spital  are  the  best  specimens  of  the  kind  of 
elevation  most  in  favour,  and  will,  I  think,  quite  justify  my  stric- 
tures, though  they  are  less  objectionable  than  most,  in  that  the 
gables  follow  the  roof  line  instead  of  being  sham. 

I  have  left  until  the  last  the  town  gateways,  which  are  certainly 
two  of  the  most  effective  I  have  ever  seen.  The  Holsteiner-Thor 
has  two  spire-like  roofs  at  its  extremities,  which  are  very  effective, 
and  its  front  towards  the  town  is  really  a  magnificent  specimen  of 
the  good  effect  of  a  great  quantity  of  arcading.  The  outer  front  of 
the  gate  is  much  less  ornamental.  In  the  string-courses  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  inlaid  terra-cotta  ornament.  The  date  of  this  gateway 
is  about  A.D.  1477.  The  Burg-Thor  and  the  buildings  on  the  town 
side  form  about  as  picturesque  a  group  as  can  well  be  imagined.  It 
has  all  been  lately  restored,  and,  I  fear,  painted:  the  colour  of  the 
red  and  black  bricks  savouring  to  my  eye  uncommonly  of  artificial 
colour;  but  one  can  scarce  imagine  anything  more  strikingly  pic- 
turesque than  the  whole  group.  The  other  side  of  the  gate  is 
almost  exactly  the  same;  but  standing  by  itself,  without  the 
picturesque  buildings  on  either  side,  is  not  nearly  so  effective. 

All  that  I  had  heard  of  Lubeck  made  me  promise  myself  a  great 
treat  in  the  study  of  the  old  brick  buildings  and  the  old  treatment 
of  brick.  I  must  confess,  however,  that  this  was  not  so  good  or  so 
satisfactory  as  I  had  expected,  and  that  it  is  certainly  very  inferior 
to  the  Italian  brick  work.  It  is  generally  coarsely  done,  and  there 
is  but  little  attempted  in  the  way  of  tracery,  and  that  little  is  never 
very  effective.  I  saw  nothing,  for  instance,  at  all  comparable  to 
such  brick  work  as  one  sees  at  Verona,  Mantua,  and  Cremona;  and 
I  doubt  much  whether  Germany  produces  any  which  can  be  com- 
pared to  it.  Except  in  one  instance,  and  then  only  to  a  very  slight 
extent,  there  is  no  attempt  at  all  at  mixing  stone  with  brick,  save 
at  the  quoins  of  the  towers,  where  there  are  always  immense  blocks 
[284] 


of  stone,  intended  for  strength,  but  contributing,  I  susp»ect,  to  the 
weal<ness  which  is  quite  a  characteristic  of  all  the  churches  in 
Lubeck,  Hamburg,  Luneburg,  and  generally  throughout  this  brick 
district.  The  brick  churches  of  Italy  are  remarkable  in  that  they 
owe  much  of  their  beautiful  effect  either  to  the  mixture  of  stone  with 
brick,  or  to  the  exquisite  moulding  of  the  brick,  and  the  care  and 
delicacy  with  which  it  was  built;  and  one  observes  that  whilst  in 
Italy  all  the  buildings  have  an  air  of  refinement,  in  northern  Ger- 
many they  have  an  air  of  great  coarseness,  to  which,  perhaps,  the 
entire  absence  of  what  can  fairly  be  called  window  tracery  in  a 
great  degree  conduces. 

Something  may,  however,  be  learnt  even  from  the  failure  of 
other  men,  and  so  some  points  may  well  be  attended  to  in  this  Ger- 
man brick  work.  And  first  it  teaches  us,  distinctly  and  unmistak- 
ably, that  brick  is  no  material  for  window  traceries;  the  necessity 
of  using  it  ends  either  in  the  repetition  of  very  simple  and  ugly  win- 
dows, such  as  are  almost  universal  in  Lubeck;  or,  as  in  the  Stadt- 
Haus,  and  again  in  the  very  remarkable  church  of  S.  Katharine,  at 
Brandenburg,  in  the  eternal  repetition  of  the  same  small  piece  of 
moulded  tracery,  which,  of  necessity  not  very  good  in  itself,  be- 
comes, by  much  repetition,  quite  hateful.  And  the  effect  is  painful 
in  the  extreme  upon  the  whole  practice  of  art:  in  all  cases,  without 
any  exception,  I  believe,  where  men  have  condescended  to  attempt 
to  execute  traceries  or  carvings  in  brick  moulded  in  this  way,  the 
tendency  has  been,  naturally  enough,  to  repeat  for  ever  things  which 
by  repetition  become  cheap.  One  moulded  piece  of  brick  tracery 
would  be  dearer  than  one  like  it  in  stone;  but  multiply  it  a  hundred 
or  a  thousand  times,  and  it  becomes  infinitely  cheaper,  but  who  can 
say  by  how  much  more  infinitely  tedious  and  unartistic!  So  at 
Brandenburg,  crockets,  crocketed  gablets,  component  parts  of  tra- 
cery, and  the  like,  are  repeated  over  and  over  again,  in  a  manner 
which  is  really  marvellous;  and  because  it  was  necessary  to  do  this, 
immense  sham  fronts,  sham  parapets,  and  the  like,  must  be  raised, 
in  order  to  display  all  the  resources  which  were  at  their  command. 
Now  this  is  very  poor  architecture,  very  vile  art;  and  it  requires 
no  argument  to  prove  that  it  is  only  the  natural  and  certain  result 
of  the  attempt  to  use  materials  out  of  their  proper  place,  and  in  a 
way  in  which  it  was  never  intended  they  should  be  used.  Far  worse 
would  be  an  attempt  to  mould  clay,  so  that  it  should  counterfeit 
the  work  of  nature;  and  so,  in  addition  to  the  destruction  of  all  art 
by  its  endless  repetitions,  insult  God's  handiwork  by  counterfeiting 
stone  quarried  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 

The  Lubeck  churches  show  us,  however,  in  other  respects,  what 
great  things  may  really  be  done,  and  done  well  and  naturally,  in 
brick.     You  may  form  mouldings  to  any  extent,  because  each 

[285] 


moulded  brick  tells  its  own  tale,  does  its  own  work;  and  mouldings, 
so  far  from  not  bearing  repetition,  gain  by  it.  All  the  windows  in  a 
noble  church  require  varied  traceries,  but  it  were  as  well  that  no 
two  of  them  should  vary  in  their  mouldings.  Here,  therefore,  the 
reproductive  power  of  the  moulder  is  most  valuable;  so,  too,  is  it 
in  all  forms  of  ornament  (as,  e.  g.,  the  billet,  chevron,  and  the  like) 
which  become  ornamental  only  by  repetition,  and  not  in  any  way  by 
reason  of  art  or  skill  in  the  man  who  works  them.  These  are  abso- 
lutely better  in  brick  than  in  stone,  because,  as  no  thought  and  no 
taste  are  necessary  in  the  man  who  carves  them,  it  were  better  the 
human  intellect  should  be  as  little  as  possible  deadened  by  working 
upon  them.  The  windows  of  S.  Katharine,  Liibeck,  show  how  these 
moulded  bricks  may  be  used  in  conjunction  with  stone  traceries, 
and  with  admirable  effect,  when  compared  with  the  attempts  at 
tracery  in  brick  which  this  and  other  churches  here  exhibit. 

But  one  of  the  most  important  facts  which  we  can  learn  here  is, 
that  brick  is  not  only  good  outside,  but  just  as  much  inside  a  church. 
All  the  Liibeck  churches  are  built,  inside  and  out,  with  red  brick; 
most  unfortunately,  this  has  all  been  whitewashed,  but  I  think  we 
may  have  faith  enough  in  the  men  who  built  them  to  be  sure  that 
they  would  not  have  been  built  with  brick  had  not  the  effect  been 
good.  For  myself,  I  am  persuaded  that  they  were  right  in  so  doing; 
because  I  have  seen  in  Italy  the  wonderfully  solemn  effect  produced 
in  this  way,  and  have  since  tested  it  myself.  In  truth,  no  red  brick 
building  should  ever  be  plastered  inside,  save  where  it  is  intended 
to  introduce  paintings  of  some  kind  more  brilliant  than  the  colour 
of  the  bricks. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  though  the  brick  work  of  Liibeck  is  far 
inferior,  in  delicacy  and  beauty,  to  that  which  I  have  seen  in  Italy, 
there  is  much  to  be  learnt  from  it,  and  much  proof  to  be  obtained,  if 
proof  be  needed,  that  brick  is  really  a  most  noble  and  serviceable 
material,  and  one  which,  wherever  it  is  the  material  of  the  district, 
ought  invariably  and  unhesitatingly  to  be  used. 

But  I  feel  that,  in  criticising  its  brick  work,  I  have  been  led  into 
abusing  old  Lubeck  almost  too  much.  Perhaps  I  ought  only  to 
express  my  grateful  recollection  of  all  the  treasures  which  she  still 
possesses,  —  of  her  screens,  her  church  furniture,  her  spacious 
interiors,  and  her  many  picturesque  features  of  antiquarian  and  ec- 
clesiological  interest,  her  triptychs,  her  brasses,  and  her  gateways, 
—  rather  than  attempt  to  draw  a  parallel  between  her  and  Italy; 
between  the  stern  ruggedness  of  the  north,  and  the  sunny  softness 
and  delicacy  of  the  south;  between,  moreover,  a  city  built  as  it 
were  in  a  day,  —  for  Ltibeck's  rise  was  sudden  almost  beyond  all 
precedent,  without  a  history,  and  without  older  days  to  teach  and 
to  correct  her,  —  and  a  land  whose  memories  of  the  past  and  asso- 

[286] 


ciations  with  old  art  were,  even  in  tlie  Middle  Ages,  well  nigh  as 
great,  and  as  valuable  in  their  influence  on  the  mind  of  her  people, 
as  they  can  be  even  at  the  present  day.  More  just  it  is,  perhaps, 
only  to  be  thankful  for  all  the  pleasures  with  which  my  three  days' 
sojourn  in  this  noble  old  city  was  full  even  to  overflowing;  and 
(forgetful  of  the  faults  of  her  architects)  to  dwell  more  upon  the 
lessons  which  their  works  cannot  fail  to  teach  us,  if  we  will  only 
lovingly  and  patiently  study  and  examine  them. 

II 

NAUMBURG  CATHEDRAL 

I  reached  Naumburg  late  at  night  in  a  tremendous  storm;  but 
the  sun  rose  cheeringly,  and  I  started  early  for  the  cathedral  fearful 
of  disappointment,  as  I  had  spent  half  the  previous  day  in  a  mis- 
taken attempt  to  find  something  interesting  at  Merseburg,  —  a 
place  against  which  it  is  only  right  to  warn  all  ecclesiologists.  At 
Naumburg  my  fate  was  happier.  The  first  view  of  the  exterior  is 
not  very  striking.  A  fair  apsidal  choir  with  a  tower  rising  on  either 
side,  Romanesque  at  the  base,  and  finished  in  late  third-pointed, 
does  not  rise  above  the  picturesque,  and  gives  but  small  promise 
of  the  excessive  interest  of  the  interior.  The  plan  is  curious.  A 
late  Romanesque,  or  very  early-pointed  nave  finished  with  eastern 
and  western  apsidal  choirs,  and  separated  from  both  of  them  by 
rood-screens;  that  to  the  eastern  choir  Romanesque,  that  to  the 
western  of  most  exquisite  early  pointed,  and  both  of  them  coeval 
with  the  portions  of  the  main  fabric  to  which  they  belong.  The 
eastern  choir  extends  across  the  transepts,  and  is  raised  consider- 
ably above  them,  with  solid  stone  parcloses,  arcaded  on  the  faces 
towards  the  transepts  with  semicircular  arches,  a  kind  of  parclose 
not  uncommon  in  the  churches  in  this  part  of  Germany. 

Under  the  whole  of  the  choir  is  a  crypt  entered  from  the  tran- 
sept, and  in  the  angles  between  the  transepts  and  the  choir  are 
towers,  the  lower  stages  of  which  are  open  to  the  transepts  and  form 
chapels,  whose  altars  stand  in  small  apsidal  projections  on  the  east 
face  of  the  tower.  A  door  on  either  side  of  the  sanctuary  leads  by  a 
staircase  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall  to  rooms  above  the  chapels  in 
the  tower.  The  entrance  to  the  choir  is  through  the  old  rood-screen 
by  doors  on  either  side  of  the  altar,  and  by  doors  in  the  parcloses, 
reached  by  long  flights  of  steps  in  the  transepts.  The  nave  is  divided 
into  three  groining  bays,  each  bay  subdivided  and  having  two  arches 
into  the  aisles.  The  western  choir  has  one  bay  and  a  five-sided  apse. 
On  either  side  of  it  is  a  narrow  passage  leading  to  staircases  which 
lead  to  rooms  above  some  chapels,  which  have  now  to  be  mentioned. 

[  287  ] 


They  form  the  base  of  towers  at  the  west  end  of  the  aisles,  but  pro- 
ject considerably  beyond  them:  only  one  of  these  towers  has 
been  built;  the  other  is  carried  up  and  finished  externally  as  though 
it  was  a  transept,  and  produces  at  first  some  confusion  when  seen 
from  the  exterior.  These  tower  chapels  are  very  curious.  That  on 
the  south  side  has  a  circular  central  shaft,  decreasing  in  size  to  the 
capital,  and  the  vaulting  has  four  ribs  springing  from  corbels  in  the 
angles  of  the  chapel  in  a  semicircular  arch  to  the  cap  of  the  column, 
and  there  are  no  other  ribs.  In  the  east  wall  is  a  small  semicircular 
recess,  in  which  still  stands  the  original  altar  with  a  double  foot- 
pace. The  north  tower  chapel  is  almost  exactly  like  the  other, 
save  that  it  has  a  polygonal  central  shaft,  and  the  recess  for  the  altar 
is  rectangular.  Both  chapels  are  lighted  with  small  round-headed 
windows  in  their  western  faces.  From  this  description  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  ground-plan  of  this  church  is  so  curiously  alike  at  its 
eastern  and  western  ends,  as  to  be  somewhat  confusing  at  first. 

And  now  to  describe  this  most  interesting  church  in  detail.  The 
eastern  choir-screen  is  most  remarkable.  It  has  admirably  carved 
capitals,  and  its  three  western  arches  (which  are  semicircular)  rest 
on  delicate  clusters  of  shafts.  The  original  doorways  still  remain, 
and  in  front  of  them  steps,  arranged  in  semicircles  radiating  from 
the  centre  of  the  door,  which  lead  up  into  the  choir.  No  doubt  an 
altar  once  stood  under  this  screen,  but  this  has  been  destroyed  in 
order  to  convert  it  into  a  pew  I  The  front  of  the  screen  too  is  so  much 
obscured  by  a  modern  gallery,  and  by  the  reredos  of  the  Lutheran 
altar,  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  how  it  was  finished:  there  seemed 
to  be  traces  of  a  vesica  with  sculpture  just  over  the  centre  arch. 
Entering  the  choir  by  this  screen,  one  finds  all  the  old  arrangements 
undisturbed.  Between  the  two  western  doors  there  are  three  stalls 
with  canopies,  and  on  either  side  against  the  stone  parcloses  eleven 
stalls  and  ten  subsellae.  In  the  midst  stand  three  ancient,  heavy 
square  desks  for  office  books,  and  upon  these  five  most  magnifi- 
cent books,  well  bound  and  of  astonishing  size,  still  maintain  their 
old  place.  They  are  all  manuscript  on  vellum,  and  two  of  them 
have  very  large  illuminations  of  subjects,  and  foliage  of  very  ad- 
mirable and  bold  character.  I  never  saw  such  magnificent  books 
on  their  own  proper  desks,  —  never,  I  think  any  of  such  grand  size 
anywhere.  The  stalls  are  not  particularly  good,  and  are  of  late 
date,  with  immense  finials,  of  a  kind  I  had  met  before  at  Halberstadt. 
A  rise  of  several  steps  divides  the  choir  from  the  first  bay  of  the 
sanctuary,  which  is  long  and  without  furniture,  save  some  late  stalls, 
which  do  not  seem  to  have  any  business  where  they  are  placed. 
This  bay  of  the  choir  terminates  the  transitional  work,  which  is 
carried  throughout  the  whole  church,  with  the  exception  of  the 
eastern  apse  and  the  western  choir.    It  is  of  the  earliest  pointed, 

[288] 


very  simple  and  bold  in  all  its  details;  the  piers  looking  rather 
like  Romanesque  in  their  section  and  capitals,  carved  in  the 
most  admirable  manner.  The  foliage  is  all  disposed  in  circles, 
being  regular  and  geometrical  and  invariably  kept  severely  and 
carefully  to  a  regular  outline;  it  is  an  example  of  the  very  perfec- 
tion of  that  kind  of  conventional  foliage,  of  which  some  of  the  early 
capitals  at  Venice  are  such  admirable  specimens,  and  I  think  in 
no  way  inferior  to  them.  The  groining  throughout  is  very  simple, 
with  diagonal  and  transverse  ribs.  The  eastern  apse  is  an  addition 
in  most  admirable  middle-pointed,  and  (save  the  upper  stages  of 
the  towers)  the  latest  work  in  the  whole  fabric.  The  section  of  the 
groining  shafts  is  particularly  elaborate  and  good;  corbels  of  foli- 
age inferior  to  the  rest  of  the  carving  throughout  the  church  sup- 
ported figures  under  canopies  at  a  height  of  about  eight  feet  from 
the  floor,  but  the  figures  are  all  gone.  A  very  bold  string  runs  round 
the  apse  at  this  point  under  a  passage-way  in  the  wall,  which  is 
reached  by  a  staircase  between  the  choir  and  the  tower-chapel  apses. 
The  windows  are  of  three  lights,  and  have  good  geometrical  tracery, 
and  the  apse  is  well  groined  with  boldly  moulded  ribs,  the  boss  in 
the  centre  being  four  ivy  leaves.  In  the  sanctuary  stand  four  oak 
sedilia  of  the  thirteenth  century,  with  open  arcaded  backs  and 
carved  ends,  the  carving  peculiar,  but  the  whole  a  very  remarkable 
work  and  very  perfect.  The  chapels  in  the  towers  on  either  side  of 
the  choir  are  not  in  the  old  state,  one  being  used  for  rubbish,  and 
the  other  as  a  vestry:  above  the  former  a  room  in  the  tower  is  used 
as  a  receptacle  for  hardware!  Perhaps  the  Prediger  deals  in  it!  The 
crypt  under  the  choir  is  very  perfect  and  fine.  We  had  an  illumi- 
nation of  it,  and  consequently  a  careful  examination.  The  capitals 
are  all  carved,  and  the  arches  all  semicircular.  It  is  divided  by 
shafts,  some  of  which  are  clustered,  into  three  spaces  in  width,  and 
in  the  length  there  are  two  bays  under  the  choir,  then  a  solid  wall 
with  a  doorway,  and  then  five  bays,  and  an  apse  of  three  bays.  The 
old  altar  still  remains. 

In  the  transepts  there  is  little  to  notice,  save  that  there  is  an 
old  altar  in  each.  The  well-like  effect  of  these  German  transepts, 
in  which  the  choir  is  continued  across  with  heavy  stone  parcloses 
of  great  height,  is  most  unpleasant.  In  this  case  the  parcloses  are 
no  less  than  16  feet  high  from  the  floor  of  the  transept;  and,  owing 
to  the  great  elevation  of  the  choir,  the  floor  of  the  crypt  is  only  4  ft. 
6  in.  lower  than  the  transept  floor. 

No  one,  going  into  the  nave  of  the  church  as  now  arranged, 
would  believe  that  he  was  in  a  church  of  more  than  very  mediocre 
interest.  Between  all  the  columns  are  small  tenements,  painted 
white,  carefully  roofed  in  and  glazed,  and  papered  with  whatever 
paper  the  fancy  and  good  taste  of  their  several  proprietors  suggest. 

C  289  ] 


In  front  of  these  are  rows  of  pews,  arranged  longitudinally,  and  all 
painted  white;  and  as  the  aisles  are  by  this  arrangement  practically 
lost  to  the  church,  galleries  are  built  in  them,  to  supply  the  created 
want.^  A  white  wooden  screen  behind  the  Lutheran  altar  conceals 
the  eastern  rood-screen;  whilst  another  white  wooden  partition,  out 
of  the  centre  of  which  projects  the  pulpit,  serves  also  to  conceal 
the  rood-screen  of  the  western  choir.  The  whole  arrangement  is, 
in  short,  just  the  most  judicious  that  could  possibly  be  imagined 
for  the  entire  annihilation  of  the  architectural  effect  of  the  interior. 

This  western  choir-screen  is  certainly  the  most  striking  I  have 
ever  seen  even  in  this  land  of  screens.  No  description  can,  however, 
do  justice  to  its  exquisite  beauty,  dependent  as  this  is,  to  a  great 
extent,  on  the  exceeding  originality  and  beauty  of  the  foliage,  which 
is  all  varied,  and  all  executed  from  natural  models.  The  doorway 
is  double,  and  rather  narrow;  the  doors  of  iron,  cross-framed;  and 
they  form  the  only  openings  in  the  screen,  the  rest  being  quite  solid, 
arcaded  on  the  eastern  side,  and  on  the  western  (that  is,  on  the  inside, 
or  choir  side),  remarkable  chiefly  for  the  exquisite  open  staircases 
on  each  side  of  the  door  leading  to  the  loft.  On  the  eastern  side, 
against  the  doorway,  are  a  Crucifix  and  SS.  Mary  and  John;  but 
these  seemed  to  be  of  later  date  than  the  door.  The  figure  of  our 
Lord  seated  in  the  tympanum  above  is  no  doubt  original;  it  is 
very  curious,  being  partly  painted,  partly  carved,  and  reminded 
me  of  an  early  picture,  managed  in  the  same  way,  which  I  saw  in 
the  gallery  at  Berlin.  Above  the  arcading,  on  either  side  of  the 
doorway,  are  a  series  of  subjects,  the  execution  of  which  (with  the 
exception  of  the  two  last,  which  are  not  original)  is  marvellously 
good.  They  are,  beginning  at  the  south— the  Last  Supper,  the 
Betrayal,  ditto  (S.  Peter  smiting  Malchus),  the  Denial  of  S.  Peter, 
our  Lord  before  Pilate,  the  Scourging,  Bearing  the  Cross.  The 
open  staircases  on  the  western  side  of  the  screen  are  remarkable 
for  the  beauty  of  the  succession  of  detached  shafts,  with  finely  carved 
capitals,  which  support  them. 

There  are  no  fittings  in  this  western  choir  save  the  altar,  the 
mensa  of  which  is  8  ft.  5  in.  long,  by  5  ft.  11  in.  wide,  and  3  ft.  8  in. 
high;  and  this  faces  west,  as  all  the  altars  throughout  the  church 
do:  so  showing  its  back  (in  the  centre  of  which  is  the  usual  closet) 
to  any  one  entering  through  the  door  of  the  screen  from  the  nave. 
It  has  a  double  footpace.  The  detail  of  this  choir  is  earlier  and 
bolder  than  that  of  the  eastern  choir;  the  windows  of  two  lights. 


^  It  is  owing  to  this  arrangement  of  the  nave,  and  the  conse- 
quent uselessness  of  the  aisles,  that  several  of  the  old  altars  still 
remain,  one  in  each  bay,  against  the  north  aisle  wall,  and  one  or 
two  against  the  south  aisle  wall. 

[290] 


with  very  bold  monials,  and  circles  sexfoiled,  witli  soffit  cusping  in 
the  head.  The  groining-shafts  are  good;  and,  as  in  the  other  choir, 
there  is  a  very  bold  string  under  a  passage-way  in  front  of  the  win- 
dows, at  about  8  feet  from  the  floor.  The  windows  do  not  fill  up 
the  whole  width  of  the  bays,  and  on  each  side  have  small  open  arches, 
which  add  very  much  to  the  richness  of  the  whole  effect.  Against 
the  groining-shafts  are  figures,  very  well  sculptured,  and  standing 
under  canopies  of  very  varied  design,  finished  at  the  top  with  what 
seem  like  models  of  churches.  Some  of  the  windows  retain  some 
exquisite  stained  glass.  The  mouldings  throughout  this  apse  are 
exactly  like  those  of  the  screen,  and  the  foliage  was  evidently  carved 
by  the  same  hand,  —  that  of  as  great  a  master  in  his  day  as  was 
the  artist  who  carved  the  early  capitals  in  the  nave.  I  think  I 
have  now  described  the  whole  of  the  interior. 

On  the  exterior  there  is  a  large  cloister  (partly  ruined)  on  the 
south  of  the  nave;  half  of  this  is  pointed,  the  other  half  late  Roman- 
esque, It  opens  into  the  church  with  a  small  round-arched  door,  in 
the  third  bay  from  the  west;  and  on  its  east  side  into  a  large  kind  of 
porch  or  narthex,  south  of  the  south  transept,  from  which  there  is 
a  particularly  grand  doorway,  with  five  shafts  in  each  jamb,  into 
the  transept.  This  porch  is  groined  in  two  bays,  and  communicates 
with  other  buildings  to  the  south,  one  of  which  seems,  by  its  apse  and 
pointed  windows,  to  have  been  a  chapel.  These  old  buildings  group 
picturesquely  with  the  east  end  of  the  church.  The  southern  was 
not,  however,  the  only  cloister;  the  good  men  of  Naumburg  seem 
to  have  been  specially  fond  of  duplicates,  and  as  they  had  two 
choirs,  two  rood-screens,  and  two  towers  at  each  end,  so  they  thought 
right  to  have  two  cloisters.  The  northern  cloister  seems  to  have 
tallied  in  size  with  the  southern;  but  all  that  now  remains  of  it  are 
the  groining-ribs  against  the  north  wall,  and  the  springers  of  the 
groining  throughout.  The  base-mould  of  the  western  tower  is  con- 
tinued all  along  this  north  wall,  and  the  groining  springs  from 
corbels;  all  which  makes  it  look  as  though  it  were  a  subsequent 
addition:  but  its  arches  are  nevertheless  round,  whilst,  as  we  have 
seen,  pointed  arches  are  used  throughout  the  main  arcade.  There 
are  two  doors  from  this  destroyed  cloister  into  the  church  — one 
into  the  north  aisle,  the  other  into  the  north  transept. 

The  western  apse  is  remarkable,  on  the  exterior,  for  the  exces- 
sively beautiful  carving  of  its  cornices;  these  are  varied  in  every  bay, 
and,  1  think,  the  best  I  have  ever  seen.  They  are  of  that  exquisite 
imitation  of  natural  foliage,  springing  upwards,  and  filling  a  large 
hollow  with  its  ramifications,  which  commends  itself  to  my  mind 
as  the  most  perfect  type  of  cornice  foliage.  There  is  a  somewhat 
sitpilar  carved  string  under  the  windows,  equally  good,  but  much 
more  simple.   The  buttresses  finish  at  the  top  with  delicate  pinnacles. 

[291] 


At  the  east  end  the  detail  is  also  good,  the  windows  being  well 
moulded,  and  the  buttresses  finished  with  good  simple  niches  and 
figures.  The  apsidal  projections  on  the  eastern  face  of  the  towers 
finish  with  pyramidal  stone  roofs  against  the  towers,  at  a  low  ele- 
vation. 

The  north-west  tower  is  late,  and  has  open  turrets  at  its  angles, 
beginning  at  the  second  stage;  it  is  picturesque,  but  not  very  good. 
The  upper  stages  of  the  eastern  towers  are  also  octangular,  but 
without  pinnacles;  and  what  ornament  they  have  is  of  a  very  late 
kind,  and  not  effective. 

Such  is  the  cathedral  of  Naumburg  —  little  known  to,  and  scarce 
ever  visited  by,  English  tourists;  and  yet  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
most  interesting  and  least  altered  churches  in  Germany:  its  two 
rood-screens  would  be  alone  sufficient  to  give  it  high  claims  upon 
our  admiration,  since  they  are,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  two  earliest 
examples  remaining,  and  certainly  older  than  any  quoted  by  Mr. 
Pugin  in  his  work  on  Screens.  Besides  this,  the  architectural  value 
of  some  parts  of  the  building  is  so  pre-eminent,  as  in  itself  to  repay 
a  long  journey. 

Ill 

ERFURT  AND  MARBURG 

At  Naumburg  there  was  little,  save  the  cathedral,  to  detain  an 
ecclesiologist.  The  Stadt-Kiiche  deserved  little  more  than  a  hur- 
ried visit,  though  the  singularity  of  its  plan  deserves  a  note.  It  has 
an  immense  apsidal  west  end,  a  vast  semicircle  on  the  plan,  em- 
bracing both  nave  and  aisles,  and  its  choir  is  also  terminated  with 
an  apse.  Beyond  this  the  only  remarkable  features  are  the  large 
multifoiled  arches  which  occupy  the  space  between  the  windows  and 
the  plinth  in  each  bay  of  the  eastern  apse. 

From  the  railway  station  one  obtains  a  good  view  of  the  cathe- 
dral steeples  over  the  vine-clad  hills  on  which  Naumburg  stands  — 
refreshing  sight  after  the  dreariness  of  the  country  generally  in  which 
I  had  been  journeying.  From  Naumburg  to  Erfurt  the  railway  runs 
through  a  really  pretty,  often  very  picturesque,  country,  with  hills 
and  rocks  by  the  river-side,  ever  and  anon  capped  by  those  feudal 
keeps  in  which  all  German  rivers  seem  to  be  so  rich;  as  picturesque 
now  as  they  were  formerly  advantageous  to  their  predatory  chiefs. 
I  had  but  two  or  three  hours  at  Erfurt,  but  this  was  enough  to  show 
me  that  much  was  to  be  seen.  The  Barfusser-Kirche  was  the  first 
that  I  saw  —  one  of  those  immensely  long  churches  of  which  Ger- 
mans were  rather  fond;  a  nave  and  aisles,  and  an  apsidal  choir, 
all  groined  at  the  same  height,  with  windows  of  the  same  size  and 
character  throughout,  and  the  whole  "restored"  in  that  peculiarly 

[292] 


chilling  fashion,  which  Lutherans  are  so  singularly  successful  in 
achieving,  which  makes  one's  recollection  of  such  a  church  not 
very  grateful.  There  is,  however,  some  old  glass  in  the  choir  win- 
dows, and  a  most  prodigious  carved  and  painted  reredos  behind  the 
altar,  which,  though  apparently  to  some  extent  modern,  is  neverthe- 
less striking  in  its  effect.  The  entrance  to  this  church  is  by  double 
doors  on  the  south  side  which  run  up  into  and  form  part  of  the 
windows,  the  same  jamb  mould  being  continued  all  round. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  my  way  to  the  cathedral  — 
strangely  enough  too,  for  when  at  last  I  reached  the  Dom-Platz, 
there,  rising  high  into  the  air,  and  approached  by  an  almost  endless 
flight  of  steps,  stood  the  magnificent  choir  of  the  cathedral,  sur- 
mounted by  its  singular  triple  arrangement  of  central  steeples,  and 
by  its  side,  and  on  the  same  high  plateau,  the  church  of  S.  Severus 
emulating,  I  should  almost  say,  aping,  the  cathedral  both  in  height 
and  design  very  curiously.  The  east  end  of  the  cathedral,  built  on 
the  precipitous  edge  of  a  rock,  has  been  under-built  with  a  terrace 
supported  upon  arches,  which,  concealing  the  natural  rock,  gives 
it  an  effect  of  extraordinary  height.  These  arches  have  been  all 
modernized,  but  there  are  traces  here  and  there  which  prove  the 
arrangement  to  be  original. 

Let  us  mount  the  flight  of  steps  which  lead  by  the  entire  length 
of  the  north  side  of  the  choir  to  the  porch,  and  we  shall  see  reason 
to  class  one  at  least  of  the  architects  of  Erfurt,  with  the  greatest 
of  his  race.  No  position  can  be  conceived  which  would  present  more 
difficulty  to  one  who  wished  to  show  the  doors  of  his  church  to  the 
people  who  might  gather  in  crowds  in  the  Dom-Platz,  and  seeing 
nothing  but  the  tall  east  end  of  their  church  and  the  sharp  per- 
spective of  its  side,  shrink  from  the  attempt  to  find  a  door  at  the 
end  of  the  long  flight  of  steps  before  them.  Every  one  must  have 
felt  how  those  great  foreign  doorways  call  upon  all  to  enter;  they 
are  always  open,  guarded  on  either  side  by  kings,  and  saints,  and 
martyrs,  and  revealing  glimpses,  precious  because  vague,  of  glorious 
interiors  and  worshippers  within  on  their  knees.  They  call  upon 
all  to  enter,  and  who  can  refuse?  At  Erfurt,  however,  one  might  have 
deemed  it  impossible  that  people  should  be  made  to  feel  this,  but 
yet  it  has  been  done,  and  done  nobly  and  magnificently.  There 
are  no  transepts,  and  so  against  the  eastern  bay  of  the  north  aisle 
of  the  nave  is  set  a  triangular  porch  of  grand  size  and  lovely  design 
and  detail.  Its  base  rests  against  the  church,  and  its  two  sides, 
jutting  out  at  angles  of  sixty  degrees  from  the  wall,  show  both  from 
the  west  and  from  the  east  the  whole  width  of  its  two  glorious 
doorways.  So,  as  one  gazes  up  from  the  Dom-Platz,  and  wonders 
at  the  singularity  of  the  position  of  the  church  and  the  beauty  of 
the  choir,  one's  eye  follows  up  the  track  of  those  who  ascend  the 

[293] 


toilsome  flight  of  steps  till  it  rests  upon  the  doorway  at  their  sum- 
mit, and  one  is  led  at  once  to  find  one's  way  through  its  great  open- 
ing into  the  nave  of  the  church.  Sad  to  say,  wanton  havoc  has 
destroyed  much  of  the  more  delicate  ornaments  of  this  most  noble 
piece  of  early  fourteenth  century  architecture.  Of  the  nave  little 
can  be  said,  save  that  it  is  entirely  unworthy  and  unsatisfactory; 
between  it  and  the  choir  is  a  great  mass  of  wall,  pierced  only  by  a 
narrow  arch  opening  into  the  choir,  and  supporting  a  curious  com- 
bination of  towers  — a  central  tower  rising  from  between  one  on 
either  side—  in  a  singular  and  rather  picturesque  fashion  of  which 
I  recollect  no  other  examples  than  the  imitation  of  it  here  in  S. 
Severus,  and  the  cathedral  at  Constance.  The  interior  of  the  choir 
is  very  noble;  its  elevation  very  great,  and  its  windows  of  rather 
late  middle-pointed,  full  without  exception  of  brilliant  though  late 
glass;  too  rich  in  colour  however  for  the  traceries,  which  it  quite 
conceals,  giving  a  useful  warning  to  architects  in  dealing  with 
stained  glass. 

The  only  piece  of  old  furniture  in  this  choir  of  which  I  made  a 
note,  is  a  curious  figure  in  brass,  supporting  three  branches  for 
lights,  one  in  either  hand,  and  one  growing  out  of  his  back.  The 
effect  of  this  is  not  at  all  satisfactory. 

This  cathedral  is  Catholic,  as  also  is  S.  Severus  and  some  of  the 
other  churches,  the  Lutherans  holding  about  an  equal  number. 

S.  Severus  imitates  the  cathedral  very  curiously;  it  is  within 
some  thirty  or  forty  feet  of  its  northern  side,  and  has  in  the  same 
transeptal  position  a  great  mass  of  tower,  the  outer  flanks  of  which 
are  crowned  with  tall  spires,  whilst  from  the  intermediate  wall, 
and  raised  above  the  others,  rises  the  central  spire;  the  mass  of 
tower  is  smaller,  but  nevertheless  by  dint  of  its  slated  spires,  S. 
Severus  manages  to  rise  higher  than  the  cathedral.  As  may  be 
imagined,  the  whole  group  is  one  of  most  picturesque  character. 
S.  Severus  has  some  very  good  middle-pointed  detail,  especially  in 
its  window  traceries. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  I  left  the  Dom-Platz,  but  I  saw 
hurriedly  the  exteriors  of  some  eight  or  ten  pointed  churches. 
They  were  mostly  of  the  same  date,  circa  1320  to  1400,  and  of  very 
various  degrees  of  merit.  One  —  the  Prediger-Kirche  is  the  not 
pleasant  dedication  by  which  it  is  now  known  —  is  of  enormous  length 
as  compared  to  its  width  and  height:  fifteen  bays  to  a  church  consist- 
ing of  a  not  very  lofty  nave  with  narrow  aisles  is  an  excess  of  this 
proportion;  its  length  cannot  be  less  than  about  225  feet.  Near  it, 
but  apparently  having  no  connection  with  it,  is  a  detached  campanile. 
In  one  of  Erfurt's  many  squares  or  market-places,  is  a  good 
pointed  house,  with  a  large  bay  window,  and  three  traceried  win- 
dows, one  on  either  side,  and  one  above  it  in  its  gable  end. 

[294] 


In  another  Platz  is  a  church  with  two  western  steeples,  one  with 
a  spire  rising  from  the  gabled  sides  of  the  tower.  Another  church 
occupies  a  triangular  piece  of  ground,  the  tower  being  at  the  west- 
ern angle,  between  two  streets.  It  is  desecrated,  and  I  could  not 
get  into  it,  but  its  internal  arrangement  must  be  most  singular. 

These  hurried  notes  are  all  that  I  could  make.  I  was  homeward 
bound,  and  obliged  to  travel  all  night  to  Marburg.  So  I  did  what  a 
pilgrim  to  the  shrine  of  S.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary  ought,  I  suppose, 
not  to  have  done— I  slept  as  the  train  passed  Eisenach,  and 
neglected  therefore,  even  to  get  a  glance  through  the  starlight  of 
the  castle  on  the  Wartburg,  her  residence  and  the  scene  of  most  of 
the  beautiful  story  of  her  life. 

It  was  early  morning  when  Marburg  was  reached.  Under  high 
hills,  covered  with  vine  and  picturesque  in  their  outline,  stands  the 
noble  church,  conspicuous  as  one  first  sees  it  by  its  two  completed 
and  nearly  similar  towers  and  spires  rising  in  all  the  beauty  of  their 
deep-coloured  stonework  against  the  green  hillside  which  rises  so 
precipitously  close  behind  them.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  are  the 
tall  walls  of  the  fine  old  castle,  and  to  the  left  of  the  church  and 
below  the  castle  the  town  covers  the  hillside  with  the  ramifications 
of  its  old  steep  and  narrow  streets.  The  church  is  perhaps  rather 
too  much  outside  the  town  for  the  use  of  the  townspeople;  but 
then  it  was  not  built  for  them,  and  in  the  general  view  it  certainly 
gains  much  by  being  placed  where  it  is. 

And  now,  before  I  say  anything  about  the  church,  two  or  three 
dates,  which  seem  to  be  settled  beyond  dispute,  may  as  well  be 
mentioned. 

S.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary  was  born,  then,  in  the  year  1207,  was 
married  when  but  fifteen  years  old,  and  ere  she  was  twenty  left  a 
widow,  her  husband  having  laid  down  his  life  in  the  third  Crusade: 
three  years  and  a  half  of  widowed  life  were  all  she  saw  before  an 
early  grave  received  her;  and  from  thence  forward  year  after  year 
saw  fresh  fervour  excited  by  the  contemplation  of  her  virtues, 
and  fresh  enthusiasm  awakened  about  the  old  city  of  Marburg, 
in  which  the  last  years  of  her  life  had  been  spent  in  the  practice  of 
austerity  and  self-denial  such  as  the  world  has  seldom  seen.  She 
was  canonized  in  a.d.  1235;  and  in  the  same  year  the  church  as 
we  now  see  it  was  commenced,  and  completed  by  about  a.d.  1283. 

More  I  need  not  say;  for  the  life  of  her  whose  memory  gave  rise 
to  this  grand  architectural  effort  is  foreign  to  my  present  purpose, 
and  moreover  is  too  well  known  to  need  repetition. 

Judging  by  the  evidence  of  style  —  which  is  not  however  very 
strong,  as  the  whole  work  has  been  completed  carefully  upon  a  uni- 
form plan  —  I  should  say  that  the  work  commenced  at  the  east, 
and  was  continued  on  westward,  so  that  the  west  front,  with  its 

[295] 


two  towers  and  spires,  was  the  latest  portion  of  the  work.  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  too,  that  the  sacristy,  a  large  building  of  two 
stories  in  height,  filling  the  angle  between  the  north  transept  and 
the  northern  side  of  the  choir,  is  an  addition  to  the  original  fabric, 
but  probably  earlier  than  the  steeples. 

The  plan  shows  a  very  regular  cruciform  church,  the  choir  and 
transepts  all  having  apsidal  ends,  a  large  sacristy,  and  two  western 
steeples;  the  whole  very  regular  and  similar  in  character  throughout. 

The  exterior  of  the  church  is  perhaps,  with  the  exception  of  its 
west  front,  more  curious  than  really  beautiful.  Throughout  its 
whole  extent  every  bay  is  similar,  and  consists  of  two  stages,  the 
upper  an  exact  repetition  of  the  one  below,  each  lighted  with  a  simple 
two-light  window  with  a  circle  in  the  head,  and  divided  by  a  great 
projecting  cornice,  the  top  of  which  is  on  a  level  with  the  bottom  of 
the  upper  windows.  The  nave  and  aisles  are  all  groined  at  one  height 
without  triforium  or  clerestory;  and  the  outer  walls  are,  therefore, 
the  full  height  of  the  groining  of  the  nave.  Now  this  endless  repeti- 
tion of  the  same  windows  in  a  manner  so  apparently  unnecessary 
was  at  first  most  perplexing  to  me,  inconsistent  as  it  seemed  with 
the  delicate  taste  exhibited  elsewhere  by  the  architect;  but  I  was 
not  long  perplexed.  The  cornice  between  the  windows  was,  in  fact,  a 
passage-way  extending  all  round  the  church  in  front  of  the  windows 
and,  by  openings,  through  all  the  buttresses:  whilst  in  front  of  the 
lower  windows  a  similar  passage,  not  corbelled  out,  but  formed  by 
a  thinning  of  the  wall  from  this  point  upwards,  again  encircles  the 
church.  The  sacristy  is  the  only  portion  of  the  building  not  so 
treated.  The  church  has  not  and  never  had  cloister,  chapter-house, 
or  any  of  the  ordinary  domestic  buildings  of  a  religious  house,  at- 
tached to  it;  it  stood  on  a  new  piece  of  ground,  away  from  houses, 
and  with  an  open  thoroughfare  all  round,  and  all  this  helps  in  the 
solution  of  its  singular  arrangements.  We  have  but  to  recall  to  mind 
that  the  relics  of  S.  Elizabeth  were  visited  by  more  pilgrims  for  some 
two  or  three  centuries  than  any  other  shrine  almost  all  Europe 
could  boast  of,  to  see  the  difficulty  accounted  for.  It  was  built  from 
the  first  to  be  a  pilgrimage  church,  and  carefully  planned  with  an 
especial  view  to  this.  No  doubt  it  was  a  great  shrine,  round  which 
thousands  of  pilgrims  congregated  in  the  open  air,  to  watch  as  pro- 
cessions passed  with  the  relics  they  came  from  so  far  to  see,  passing 
by  these  ingeniously  contrived  passages  round  the  entire  church 
again  and  again,  seen  by  all,  but  unencumbered  by  the  pressure  ot 
the  multitude. 

The  whole  arrangement  is  so  curious  that  I  have  dwelt  at  some 
length  upon  it,  feeling  that  it  certainly  shows  well  how  boldly  a 
thirteenth  century  architect  ventured  to  depart  from  precedent 
when  he  found  a  new  want  to  be  provided  for,  and  when  a  before 

[296] 


unthought  of  necessity  had  arisen.  I  need  hardly  say,  that  the 
effect  of  the  corbelled-out  passage  is  to  divide  the  height  distinctly 
into  two  parts,  a  division  perhaps  more  difficult  of  satisfactory  treat- 
ment than  any  other  that  one  can  imagine.  The  only  variety  in 
the  tracery  of  the  windows  throughout  the  body  of  the  church  is, 
that  the  centre  window  of  each  apse  has  a  sexfoil  in  the  circle  in  its 
head,  none  of  the  other  windows  having  any  cusping  whatever.  The 
moulding  of  the  windows  is  very  simple,  —  a  very  bold  roll  and  cham- 
fer; and  it  is  noticeable  that  in  the  tracery  the  roll-moulding  does 
not  mitre  with  the  same  moulding  in  the  arch,  but  is  just  separated 
from  it,  an  ungraceful  peculiarity;  the  roll-moulding  of  the  tracery 
is  treated  as  a  shaft  in  the  monial  and  jambs,  and  has  corbelled  bases, 
the  effect  of  which  is  not  at  all  good.  The  buttresses  run  up  to  the 
eaves,  but  finish  abruptly  without  pinnacles,  nor  is  there  any  para- 
pet. It  seems  probable  that  something  must  have  been  intended, 
but  px)ssibly  never  done;  and  I  confess  I  should  shrink  from  ventur- 
ing now  ufXDn  the  introduction  of  either  pinnacles  or  parapet,  and 
I  cannot  but  trust  that  in  the  extensive  repairs  now  in  progress, 
restorations  of  this  conjectural  kind  will  not  be  attempted.  Better, 
in  such  a  case,  let  well  alone,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  destroying 
everything  by  some  monstrous  mistakes! 

The  west  front  is  quite  a  thing  to  be  considered  apart  from  the 
rest  of  the  church,  later  in  character,  and  the  work,  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  of  another  man,  who  did  not  only  this  but  all,  or  nearly 
all,  the  magnificent  fittings  of  the  interior.  The  first  man  worked 
under  the  trammels  of  a  transitional  style,  endeavouring  after  yet 
not  achieving  the  beauties  which  the  second  man  was  able,  in  all 
that  he  did  at  a  more  advanced  day,  so  completely  to  realize. 

The  west  door  at  once  fixes  one's  attention.  It  is  very  lovely: 
the  jamb  perhaps  too  plain,  and  lacking  mouldings  between  its 
shafts,  but  the  arch  absolutely  perfect;  it  has  two  rows  of  the  fresh- 
est and  brightest  stone  foliage  ever  seen,  and  the  tympanum  — 
diapered  over  one  half  with  a  trailing  rose,  and  on  the  other  with  a 
vine,  both  creeping  naturally  upwards  with  exquisite  curve  and 
undulation,  regular  in  their  irregularity,  —  is  certainly  of  a  degree 
of  exquisite  and  simple  beauty  such  as  I  have  never  seen  surpassed. 
In  the  midst  of  this  bower  stands  a  fine  figure  of  S.  Mary  with  our 
Lord  in  her  arms,  and  on  either  side  an  angel  censing.  As  one 
looks  at  the  carving,  one  thinks  of  the  prettiest  perhaps  of  all  the 
legends  of  S.  Elizabeth,  and  it  may  be  that  the  sculptor,  as  he  struck 
out  the  bold  and  beautiful  work,  which  even  now  surprises  by  its 
beauty  and  its  sharpness,  thought  of  those  roses  of  paradise  with 
which  S.  Elizabeth  in  the  legend  surprised  her  doubting  husband. 

Above  this  doorway  a  pierced  parapet  carries  a  passage  in  front 
of  the  fine  and  thoroughly  geometrical  west  window  of  six  lights. 

[297] 


Another  parapet,  and  then  a  row  of  traceries  and  canopies  which 
masl<  the  roof  gable.  On  either  side  the  great  buttresses  of  the 
steeples  give  an  air  of  solidity  and  plainness  to  the  whole  elevation, 
which  I  think  very  satisfactory.  A  two-light  window  on  the  same 
level  as  the  great  west  window,  and  very  long  narrow  belfry  windows, 
also  of  two  lights,  are  the  only  openings  in  the  towers.  The  but- 
tresses finish  with  pinnacles,  and  the  towers  with  pierced  parapets, 
above  which,  on  the  cardinal  sides,  are  gables  with  windows,  and  at 
their  summit  an  octangular  open  parapet,  from  which  the  spires 
then  rise  without  further  break  or  ornament.  The  composition  is 
unusual  and  very  good. 

Besides  these  western  steeples  there  is  a  turret  of  poor  and  mod- 
ern character  over  the  intersection  of  the  transept  and  other  roofs. 

And  now  let  us  enter,  and  we  shall  find  ourselves  in  what  seems 
like  a  very  lantern;  windows  everywhere,  tier  above  tier,  and  ad- 
mitting a  flood  of  light  which  is  bearable  only  when  —  as  happily 
still  in  the  choir  —  all  the  windows  are  filled  with  the  richest  stained 
glass. 

The  architectural  peculiarities  of  the  exterior  are  as  marked 
but  not  as  intelligible  in  the  interior;  and  one  cannot  cease  to 
regret  the  effect  of  the  reiteration  of  the  same  window  everywhere: 
otherwise,  however,  the  interior  is  full  of  beauty;  the  nave  piers 
very  simple— large  circles  with  four  en^ged  shafts  — very  lofty 
and  with  finely  carved  capitals.  The  transept  piers  are  clustered, 
and  the  groining  throughout  is  very  simple,  but  of  exquisite  pro- 
portions. 

And  now  I  must  go  on  to  describe  the  fittings  and  arrangements 
of  this  interior,  which  are  so  perfect  as  to  make  it,  perhaps,  the 
most  interesting  and  complete  church  in  Germany. 

The  choir  extends  to  the  western  side  of  the  transepts,  and  is 
finished  towards  the  nave  with  a  high  stone  screen,  against  the 
western  side  of  which  is  a  large  people's  altar.  The  screen  is  tra- 
ceried  and  panelled  over  its  whole  western  surface,  and  surmounted 
by  a  delicate  open  arcade  finished  with  pinnacles  and  gablets;  the 
portion  over  the  altar  being  elaborated  so  as  to  form  a  reredos 
rather  than  a  screen.  The  only  openings  in  this  screen  are  a  row 
of  small  windows  (as  one  may  almost  call  them),  opening  just 
above  the  backs  of  the  stalls,  which  in  the  choir  are  continued  not 
only  on  the  north  and  south  sides,  but  quite  across  the  west  side 
also.  The  only  entrance  to  the  choir,  therefore,  is  on  either  side 
from  the  transepts  to  the  east  of  the  stalls.  On  the  eastern  face  of 
the  screen,  a  kind  of  large  ambon  is  corbelled  forward  in  the  centre, 
just  the  width  of  the  people's  altar;  and  above  this  rose—  I  say 
"rose,"  for  when  I  was  there,  it  was  lying  on  the  floor,  as  a  first 
step  to  "restoration,"  which  may  not,  I  trust,  mean  "destruction," 

[298] 


—  a  grand  tref oiled  arch  of  timber,  covered  with  very  boldly  carved 
natural  foliage,  and  flanked  by  two  massive  pinnacles.  All  trace 
of  the  figures  is  gone,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  arch  and 
the  pinnacles  bore  on  their  summits  the  Crucifix  with  the  figures  of 
S.  Mary  and  S.  John;  and,  indeed,  the  marks  of  their  having  once 
been  affixed  still  remain. 

In  the  choir  there  is  a  double  row  of  stalls  round  three  sides,  the 
subsellae  having  low  original  desks  in  front  of  them.  These  are  per- 
fect all  round,  and,  as  I  need  hardly  say,  valuable  for  their  rarity. 
The  stalls  are  finely  treated,  and  the  upper  row  is  well  raised.  The 
effect  of  the  whole  is  most  singular  and  very  new  to  an  English  eye, 
for  though,  as  I  had  occasion  to  show  at  Naumburg,  and  as  I  saw 
elsewhere  in  the  same  part  of  Germany,  stalls  against  the  centre 
of  the  eastern  side  of  a  screen  are  not  uncommon,  I  have  nowhere 
else  seen  such  a  complete  shutting-off  of  the  choir  from  the 
church  as  has  from  the  very  first  existed  here.  There  is  a  space 
between  the  back  of  the  stalls  and  the  rood-screen,  in  which  probably 
an  entrance  was  originally  contrived  to  the  ambo  under  the  rood, 
though  of  this  no  trace  now  remains. 

There  are  no  parcloses  between  the  choir  and  the  transepts,  whilst 
between  the  latter  and  the  aisles  of  the  nave  there  are  only  rude  and 
modern  screens,  without  any  trace  of  the  original  arrangement. 

And  now  that  we  are  in  the  choir,  the  most  noticeable  feature  is 
the  altar  with  its  reredos,  and  its  great  standard  candles  on  either 
side.^  The  reredos  is  elaborately  decorated  with  colour,  and  con- 
sists of  three  very  fine  trefoiled  arches  with  crocketed  gables  above, 
and  elaborate  and  lofty  pinnacles  between  them.  The  spaces  within 
the  three  arches  are  much  recessed,  and  ornamented  at  the  back 
with  sculpture  of  figures  in  niches,  and  tracery;  the  whole  very  full 
of  delicate  taste  in  its  execution.  The  altar  is  perfectly  plain  and 
solid,  with  a  moulded  mensa,  and  footpace  of  three  steps  in  front 
and  at  the  ends.  It  stands,  of  course,  on  the  chord  of  the  apse. 
The  arrangement  at  the  back  of  the  reredos  is  most  singular:  there 
are  two  lockers  on  either  side,  and  in  the  centre  a  doorway,  which 
when  opened  discloses  steps  leading  down  to  the  space  under,  and 
enclosed  by,  the  altar.  In  this  space  there  are  five  square  recesses 
below  the  level  of  the  floor:  three  on  the  west  side,  and  one  at  each 
end;  the  dimensions  of  this  chamber  are  8  ft.  by  3  ft.  6  in.,  and  7  ft. 
3  in.  to  the  under  side  of  the  mensa  of  the  altar;  the  recesses  in  it 
are  1  ft.  8|  in.  wide  by  1  ft.  7  in.  deep.    But  one  of  the  most  singular 


^  I  have  given  a  drawing  of  these  candlesticks  for  the  Inslru- 
menta  Ecclesiasiica.  They  are  not  movable  candlesticks,  but  reg- 
ular fixtures  to  the  pavement,  and  made  in  some  kind  of  white 
metal. 

[  299  ] 


features  in  it  is,  that  there  were  evidently  originally  sliding  shutters 
in  front  of  each  of  the  three  recessed  niches  which  form  the  front 
of  the  reredos.  These  are  all  gone,  but  the  grooves  remain  both 
above  and  below,  and  leave  not  a  shadow  of  doubt  as  to  their  former 
existence.  There  are  two  grooves  in  front  of  each  division,  and  of 
course  there  are  corresponding  openings  in  the  mensa  of  the  altar. 
The  arrangement  is  so  new  to  me,  that  it  is  difficult  to  say  exactly 
for  what  specific  purpose  it  may  have  been  made;  but  it  seems 
obvious  that  it  might  allow  of  great  variety  of  decoration  or  illus- 
tration of  subjects  suited  to  the  varying  seasons  of  the  Christian 
year,  supposing  the  sliding  shutters  to  have  been  decorated  with 
paintings. 

To  the  south  of  the  altar  are  oak  sedilia  —  a  long  seat  undivided, 
but  with  five  canopies  above:  the  work  all  good,  but  defective  in 
not  having  its  divisions  marked  through  the  whole  height. 

The  windows  in  the  choir  are,  as  I  have  before  observed,  full  of 
fine  stained  glass,  some  of  which  is  of  very  early  character.  The 
lower  tier  of  windows  is  filled  with  subjects  in  medallions,  the  upper 
with  two  rows  of  figures  and  canopies  —  a  satisfactory  and  common 
arrangement  in  old  work. 

Some  old  lockers  in  the  walls,  and  banners  suspended  round  the 
apse,  serve  to  complete  a  most  striking  and  long-to-be-remembered 
toul  ensemble. 

Unfortunately  there  are  no  signs  of  any  ancient  pavement,  un- 
less we  take  for  old  the  wretched  gravestones  of  the  Landgraves  of 
Hesse  and  their  family,  which  almost  cover  the  floor.  They  are 
effigies  of  recumbent  figures  in  not  very  low  relief,  but  partly  sunk 
below  the  proper  level  of  the  floor  and  partly  raised.  One  stumbles 
over  these  wretched  man-traps  at  every  step,  and  wishes  heartily 
that  such  a  device  for  damaging  ankles  had  never  been  invented. 
In  the  south  transept  there  are  a  number  of  high  tombs  with  recum- 
bent effigies,  beginning  with  one  of  early  date  and  fine  character. 

The  north  transept,  however,  contains  something  better  than  these 
monuments,  and  one  of  the  greatest  curiosities  of  the  church  —  the 
chapel,  as  they  call  it,  of  S.  Elizabeth.  It  never  had  an  altar,  and 
was  not  a  chapel,  but  simply  a  very  beautiful  kind  of  tabernacle, 
within  which  was  deposited  the  marvellously  beautiful  shrine  in 
which  were  preserved  the  relics  of  the  saint,  and  which  — now  re- 
moved to  the  sacristy  —  is  still  the  great  treasure  of  the  church. 
The  relics  were  all  dispersed,  I  believe,  at  the  time  of  the  Refor- 
mation, though  the  church  is  still  held  by  the  Catholics.  This 
tabernacle,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  is  a  rectangular  erection,  narrow  at 
the  east  and  west,  and  with  its  principal  front  towards  the  south. 
A  trefoiled  arch  on  each  face,  supported  upon  clusters  of  shafts  at 
the  four  angles,  forms  the  design,  the  arches  inclosed  within  a  square 

[300] 


projecting  moulding,  with  their  spandrels  not  carved  but  bearing 
marks  of  painting.  The  great  beauty  of  the  work  is  the  exquisite 
foliage  which  is  carved  in  such  masses  all  round  the  arches  and 
elsewhere  as  quite  to  take  the  place  of  mouldings.  All  this  foliage 
is  natural,  much  varied,  and  undercut  with  such  boldness  as  to  stand 
out  in  very  great  relief.  I  would  that  every  carver  in  England  could 
have  the  opportunity  to  study  this  exquisite  work,  and  still  more, 
the  sense  to  profit  by  it.  All  the  openings  are  filled  in  with  iron  grilles; 
and  the  whole  is  just  large  enough  to  contain  and  protect  the  shrine. 
It  stands  upon  double  steps,  which  are  prolonged  to  form  a  foot- 
pace for  an  altar  which  has  been  built  against  its  west  side,  and 
which,  on  the  south,  are  worn  into  hollows  by  the  knees  of  pilgrims. 

Above  the  stone  work  is  an  open  wooden  railing,  apparently  of 
the  same  date;  and  this  incloses  a  space  which  is  reached  by  a 
staircase  from  behind.  In  the  reredos  of  the  altar  erected  against 
the  shrine  are  some  sculptures  from  the  life  of  the  saint,  her  death, 
her  burial,  and  the  exaltation  of  her  relics  after  canonization,  etc., 
whilst  on  the  shutters  are  paintings  representing  some  of  the  more 
remarkable  subjects  in  her  story. 

The  shrine  has  been  removed  for  safety  to  the  sacristy,  and  is 
carefully  guarded  and  fenced  about  with  iron-work,  as  well  it  may 
be.  It  is  an  exquisite  work  of  the  best  period —circa  1280-1300  — 
covered  with  the  most  delicate  work  in  silver-gilt  and  adorned 
profusely  with  jewels  and  enamels,  and  on  the  whole  I  think  the 
finest  shrine  I  have  ever  seen. 

The  doors  in  the  sacristy  and  elsewhere  throughout  the  church 
are  of  deal,  and  were  originally  covered  with  linen  or  leather,  which 
as  far  as  I  could  make  out  was  always  coloured  a  bright  red;  it  is  a 
most  curious  evidence  of  the  extent  to  which  colour  was  introduced 
everywhere,  and  must  have  been  most  effective.  It  is  not,  however, 
the  only  instance  with  which  I  have  met;  and  I  may  mention  the 
magnificent  north  transept  doors  of  the  cathedral  at  Halberstadt  as 
examples  of  the  same  thing. 

Between  the  north  transept  and  the  sacristy  is  a  passage,  which 
leads  to  the  external  passages  which  I  have  already  described  as 
surrounding  the  whole  exterior  of  the  church. 

My  notice  of  Marburg  has  already  extended  far  beyond  what 
I  purposed,  though  not  beyond  its  deserts;  and  yet  1  cannot  con- 
clude without  saying  a  few  words  about  the  castle,  which  so  grandly 
towers  over  the  old  tower  and  church. 

The  climb  up  to  it  is  really  a  serious  business;  and  when  I 
reached  the  summit  I  had  to  exhibit  no  little  adroitness  in  passing  a 
sentinel  who  obstinately  wanted  to  send  me  back,  in  order  that 
I  might  ascend  by  some  more  tortuous  and  more  legal  path  than  I 
had  chosen. 

[301] 


I  went  first  into  the  chapel.  This  is  raised  to  a  considerable  height 
upon  other  buildings,  and  approached  by  a  newel  staircase.  It  is  a 
very  curious  and  very  satisfactory  little  building,  its  entire  length 
39  ft.,  and  its  width  18  ft.  6  in.  There  is  a  three-sided  apse  at 
either  end,  and  one  bay  only  between  them;  this  central  bay  has 
projections  on  either  side,  which  inside  have  the  effect  of  very 
small  transepts,  and  externally  are  treated  as  bay  windows.  The 
windows  are  all  geometrical,  of  two  lights,  and  very  good  detail. 
Externally,  there  are  buttresses  at  the  angles  of  the  apse,  which 
rise  out  of  the  much  thicker  walls  of  the  rooms  below  the  chapel, 
and  do  not  go  down  to  the  ground.  In  the  eastern  apse  there  are  a 
piscina  and  a  locker.  The  old  pavement  still  remains;  it  is  all  of 
red  tile,  arranged  in  large  circles,  with  tiles  generally  triangular  in 
shape  and  of  various  sizes.  Unfortunately,  this  little  chapel  is  full 
of  galleries  and  pews. 

From  hence  I  ascended  to  the  Ritter-Saal,  a  fine  large  groined 
hall,  somewhat  like  the  well  known  hall  in  the  Stadt-Haus  at  Aix- 
la-Chapelle.  It  is  divided  by  a  row  of  columns  down  the  centre, 
from  which  the  groining-ribs  spring,  and  is  about  100  feet  long  by 
42  feet  wide.  Each  bay  has  a  very  fine  four-light  transomed  window, 
and  the  whole  is  of  early  date.  Below  it,  on  the  ground  floor,  is  a 
smaller  hall,  the  groining  of  which  springs  from  a  central  shaft, 
and  the  windows  in  which  are  of  three  and  five  transomed  lights,  and 
of  very  early  character. 

The  interest  of  both  these  halls  is  very  great,  as  they  are  quite 
untouched,  and  of  a  rare  date  for  domestic  work  on  such  a  scale. 
The  exterior  of  this  portion  of  the  buildings  is  very  fine,  boldly 
buttressed,  with  great  angle  turrets,  and  occupying  just  the  edge 
of  the  cliff. 

The  castle  stands  upon  a  narrow  prong  of  hill,  very  precipitous 
on  three  sides,  and  all  around  its  base  the  town  clusters;  on  one 
side  is  the  grand  church  of  S.  Elizabeth,  looking  most  admirable  in 
this  capital  bird's-eye  view,  and  on  the  other  a  long  flight  of  steps 
leads  to  a  church  which  from  above  looks  very  well,  but  which  did 
not  repay  examination,  its  only  interesting  feature  being  an  old 
Sakraments-Hduslein. 

I  walked  back  from  the  castle  by  a  roundabout  path  all  through 
the  old  town,  and  reached  my  inn  too  late  to  get  on  to  Frankfort 
by  the  train  I  had  fixed  on;  but  I  was  not  sorry,  as  I  had  an  excuse 
for  getting  some  more  sketches  of  the  exterior  of  the  cathedral,  and 
had  all  the  more  pleasant  thoughts  wherewith  to  solace  myself  as 
I  travelled  through  the  dark  night  to  Frankfort. 

I  think  I  have  said  enough  to  show  that  ecclesiologists  may 
depend  upon  pleasure  of  no  ordinary  kind  in  visiting  such  churches 
as  those  of  Naumburg,  Erfurt,  and  Marburg.   They  are  remarkable, 

[  302  ] 


not  only  for  their  generally  fine  character,  but  more  especially  for 
their  exquisite  sculpture  and  for  the  extent  to  which  they  have 
preserved  almost  untouched  and  undamaged  their  extraordinarily 
beautiful  furniture  and  fittings;  and  are,  therefore,  of  especial 
value  to  us,  who  have  so  little  of  the  same  kind  of  thing  left  in  our 
own  churches. 

IV 
MONSTER  AND  SOEST 

In  the  course  of  the  autumn  of  last  year,  I  spent  a  short  holiday, 
not  unprofitably,  I  hope,  in  the  examination  of  some  of  the  old 
towns  in  the  north  of  Germany;  and,  as  the  interest  of  the  archi- 
tectural remains  in  this  district  is  very  great,  and  our  acquaintance 
with  them  too  slight,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a  mere  transcript 
of  my  diary  during  the  time  that  1  was  examining  them  may  be  of 
some  use  and  interest.  I  have  already  printed  notices,  drawn  up 
from  the  same  journal,  of  the  churches  of  Lubeck,  and  the  cathe- 
dral at  Marburg;  and  I  shall  now  employ  myself  in  giving  shorter 
descriptions  of  the  other  chief  features  of  this  journey. 

Crossing  by  Calais,  and  taking  hurried  glances  only  at  S.  Omer, 
with  its  noble  cathedral,  and  the  fine  relic  of  the  abbey  of  S.  Bertin, 
remarkable  among  great  French  churches  for  its  single  western 
tower,  I  went  on  to  Lille, —  a  town  whose  interest  to  architects 
just  now  is  rather  in  the  future  than  in  the  past,  but  whose  church 
of  S.  Maurice  is  a  striking  example  of  the  difference  in  the  concep- 
tion of  a  town  church  on  the  Continent  and  in  this  country  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  It  has  two  aisles  on  each  side  of  the  nave  and  choir, 
and  is  groined  throughout.  Here  we  should  look  on  such  a  church 
almost  in  the  light  of  a  cathedral;  there,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  not 
very  remarkable  parish  church.  Some  old  brick  work  at  the  back 
of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  is  the  only  other  old  feature  which  I  re- 
member in  Lille;  but  its  streets  and  market-place  are  busy  and 
picturesque. 

From  Lille,  passing  by  Courtrai,  I  reaciied  Ypres  in  time  to 
spend  the  afternoon  in  sketching  and  studying  what  is  perhaps  the 
noblest  example  of  the  domestic  work  of  Germany.  Les  Halles,  as 
this  great  pile  of  building  is  called,  seems  to  have  been  a  great 
covered  mart,  rather  than  a  mere  town  hall;  and  when  I  was  there, 
a  fair  was  being  held  within  its  walls,  and,  filled  with  picturesque 
groups  of  people,  and  stalls  for  the  sale  of  every  conceivable  kind 
of  merchandise,  the  grandeur  of  its  size  and  design  was  well  seen. 
The  main  portion  of  the  building  is  of  uniform  early  middle-pointed 
date,  and  forms  an  immense  and  rather  irregular  parallelogram,  en- 
closing some  long  and  narrow  courts.    The  principal  front  towards 

[303  ] 


the  market  place  is,  by  a  rough  measurement  which  I  made,  about 
375  feet  in  length;  very  uniform  in  its  design,  but  broken  in  the 
centre  by  a  fine  lofty  engaged  tower,  surmounted  with  a  spire, 
finishing  in  a  sort  of  louvre,  of  modern  character.  The  whole  effect 
of  the  building  is  inconceivably  grand,  leaving  behind  it  in  point  of 
general  effect  even  (I  am  bold  in  saying  it)  the  Ducal  Palace  at 
Venice.  In  elevation  the  main  building  is  divided  into  three  stages. 
The  ground  stage  consists  of  a  succession  of  openings  with  square 
heads,  trefoiled;  the  next  of  a  long  series  of  two-light  windows  with 
quatrefoils  in  the  head,  the  openings  in  which  are  square,  the  tra- 
cery not  being  pierced;  and  the  third  stage  has  again  an  immense 
succession  of  traceried  openings  alternately  glazed  and  blank.  The 
whole  is  surmounted  by  a  lofty  traceried  parapet  corbelled  out,  and 
the  steep  and  original  timber  roof  is  surmounted  with  a  ridge-crest 
of  stone,  of  more  delicate  character  than  I  have  ever  seen  elsewhere. 
The  front  is  finished  at  the  angles  with  immense  octangular  pin- 
nacles, corbelling  out  at  their  base  from  the  wall,  and  the  tower, 
which  rises  two  stages  above  the  ridge  of  the  roof,  has  also  at  its 
angles  similar  pinnacles.  The  general  motif  of  the  entire  front  is 
continued  happily  in  the  steeple,  the  faces  of  which  are  occupied 
with  rows  of  lofty  windows  of  two  lights.  From  the  belfry,  and  from 
within  another  corbelled  parapet,  springs  the  spire,  which,  at  first 
square,  becomes,  below  the  tourelle  on  its  summit,  an  octagon. 

Immediately  behind  Les  Halles,  stands  the  cathedral.  This  has 
a  fine  western  tower,  built  circa  a.d.  1380,  and  remarkable  for  the 
triple  buttresses  at  its  angles.  The  west  door  is  double,  and  set 
within  an  enclosing  arch  with  the  west  window,  in  a  common  Ger- 
man fashion.  The  interior  is  lofty  and  spacious,  with  cylindrical 
shafts,  whose  capitals  have  simple  foliage  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
The  triforium  is  good,  and  some  of  the  clerestory  (e.g.  that  in  the 
south  transept)  is  also  early  and  good;  but  the  whole  church  is  not 
by  any  means  of  the  first  order.  The  south  transept  has  recently 
been  very  creditably  restored,  the  new  carving  being  executed  with 
much  spirit.  The  east  end  is  remarkable  externally  for  its  tall  but- 
tresses, without  weatherings,  and  for  the  deep  arches  under  which 
the  windows  are  set,  and  which  give  the  building  too  much  of  a 
skeleton  effect  to  be  pleasing.  A  rather  graceful  turret  (of  Renais- 
sance character)  surmounts  the  crossing. 

The  cathedral  and  Les  Halles,  though  close  together,  are  not 
absolutely  parallel,  but  the  combination  of  the  two  buildings,  with 
their  towers  and  turrets,  and  two  other  towers,  is  very  good,  and 
gives  an  imposing  effect  to  the  general  views  of  the  old  city. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  though  in  Les  Halles  the  pointed  arch 
and  the  very  best  window-tracery  are  everywhere  used,  there  is  no 
possibility  of  mistaking  it  for  a  church,  or  even  for  a  religious  building. 

[304] 


There  are  many  old  houses  in  the  town,  generally  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  with  stepped  gables,  and  four-centred  window-heads  with 
carved  tympana;  but  their  effect  generally  is  not  satisfactory. 

Between  Ypres  and  Courtrai  (whither  I  next  journeyed)  are 
some  large  churches,  of  which  that  at  Comines  would,  I  think, 
repay  examination.  Courtrai  has  not  much  to  call  for  remark; 
though  its  market  place  is  quaint,  picturesque,  and  irregularly 
grouped,  with  a  clock-tower,  turreted  at  the  angles  and  with  a 
spire-like  capping,  rising  suddenly  out  from  among  its  houses, 
out  of  whose  windows  sound  forth  constantly  those  cheery  chimes 
which  give  so  much  colour  to  the  recollection  of  all  the  towns  in 
this  chime-loving  part  of  the  world.  At  the  back  of  the  market 
place  a  fine  middle-pointed  church  tower  rises,  capped  with  a  most 
picturesque  slated  tourelle.  The  church  to  which  it  is  attached  is 
the  largest  in  Courtrai,  but  not  remarkable.  It  has  an  apsidal  pro- 
jecting chapel  in  the  second  bay  from  the  west,  noticeable  in  that 
the  axis  of  the  apse  is  north  and  south.  The  other  churches  are  of 
little  value,  and  much  mutilated.  Notre  Dame  has  a  western  tower, 
and  a  chapel  added  on  the  south  side  of  the  choir  which  has  pinnacles, 
and  a  bell-turret  on  the  gable,  of  very  good  character. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  building  in  the  town  is  the  town- 
hall.  It  is  of  late  date,  and  the  tracery  of  the  windows,  and  the  fig- 
ures which  once  adorned  the  front  between  the  windows,  are  all 
destroyed.  The  doors  are  original,  and  an  old  staircase  with  panelled 
sides,  and  partly  old  metal  balustrade,  leads  to  the  hall  on  the  first 
floor.  This  has  a  fine  simple  open  roof  of  timber,  with  double  collar- 
beams  and  arched  braces:  this,  I  fear,  is  no  longer  visible,  as,  when  I 
was  there,  workmen  were  just  about  to  begin  the  erection  of  a  ceil- 
ing under  it,  to  make  the  room  fit  for  the  reception  of  the  King  of 
the  Belgians.  In  two  side  rooms  there  are  very  remarkable  fire- 
places, one  of  which  is  well  known  by  Haghe's  drawing.  The  finer 
of  the  two  is  adorned  with  a  profusion  of  sculptures  representing 
the  Vices  and  Virtues  and  very  striking  in  their  treatment. 

From  Courtrai,  a  short  journey  by  railway  brought  me  to  Tour- 
nai  —  a  town  not,  I  think,  so  well  known  as  it  ought  to  be  for  its 
magnificent  cathedral  —  doubtless  the  finest,  by  very  far,  in  Bel- 
gium. The  nave  and  transepts  are  Romanesque.  In  the  former, 
there  is  that  quadruple  division  in  height  so  frequent  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  churches  in  the  neighbouring  part  of  France.  The 
transepts  are  very  noble,  and  ended  with  grand  apses,  and  both  they 
and  the  choir  are  very  much  more  lofty  than  the  nave.  They  owe 
much  of  their  grandeur  to  the  number  of  detached  shafts  of  great 
size,  and  to  the  fact  that  the  aisle,  triforium,  and  clerestory,  are  all 
carried  round  the  apses.  The  choir  is  all  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
and  very  lofty  and  light  in  its  proportions.   The  windows  are  being 

[305] 


carefully  restored;  but  some  bad  stained  glass  has  been  recently  put 
up.  In  the  sacristy  there  is  a  little  old  plate,  of  which  I  may  men- 
tion a  fine  monstrance,  and  two  shrines;  one  of  which,  of  the  thir- 
teenth century,  is  one  of  the  most  exquisite  I  have  ever  seen,  being 
adorned  with  a  great  deal  of  enamelling  and  silversmith's  work,  of 
most  delicate  character.  There  is  also  here  a  fine  cope-chest;  but  I 
found  only  one  old  vestment,  —  the  orphrey  of  a  chasuble,  with  figures 
of  saints;  date  about  A.D.  1450;  the  rest  were  modern,  and  generally 
very  tawdry.  But  they  possess  here,  in  addition  to  these  vestments, 
an  altar  frontal,  of  great  interest;  it  is  embroidered  on  a  white  silk 
ground,  with  a  tree  of  Jesse:  the  figures  are  well  executed  in  high 
relief,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole,  with  the  stiff  conventional  arms 
of  the  tree  encircling  the  figures,  is  very  striking.  The  embroidery 
is  executed  in  the  same  way  as  our  old  English  work;  but  I  never 
saw  any  figures  worked  with  so  much  spirit  or  so  much  character 
in  their  faces.    The  old  fringe  of  red  silk  over  gold  thread  remains. 

The  external  view  of  the  cathedral  presents  one  of  the  most  sin- 
gular, and,  at  the  same  time,  most  grand  assemblages  of  steeples  I 
have  ever  seen.  There  are  two  tall  towers,  richly  arcaded  and 
capped  with  square  slated  spires,  to  each  transept,  and  over  the 
crossing  a  much  lower  though  larger  lantern  also  capped  with  a 
spire.  These  five  spires  are  well  seen  from  the  market  place,  and 
with  a  tall  campanile  at  its  upper  end,  of  the  thirteenth  century,  com- 
bine in  a  very  grand  group.  I  should  have  mentioned  that  the  cen- 
tral spire  is  octagonal  with  four  square  slated  turrets  at  the  angles. 
The  east  end  of  the  cathedral  deserves  notice;  its  scale  is  great, 
and  its  flying  buttresses  and  detail  generally  very  good.  Chapels  are 
formed  between  the  buttresses  and  roofed  with  gables  running  back 
to  the  aisle  walls. 

The  Maison  de  Ville  was  formerly  a  convent  and  still  retains  a 
few  old  portions  built  up  in  the  more  modern  additions. 

In  the  market  place  is  a  small  church,  the  entrance  to  which  is 
at  the  east,  and  the  altar  at  the  west  end.  Over  the  east  door  are 
two  triplets,  quite  first-pointed  in  their  character.  There  are 
round  turrets  at  the  west  angles  and  to  the  transepts,  and  a  pic- 
turesque slated  spire  over  the  crossing;  the  whole  is  groined,  and 
reminded  me  of  the  style  of  the  transepts  of  the  cathedral,  though 
it  is  not  very  effective. 

Another  church  on  the  way  to  the  railway  station  has  an  eastern 
apse,  and  a  tower  and  slated  spire  over  the  crossing.  The  nave  has 
a  continuous  clerestory,  with  two  or  three  windows  in  each  bay; 
the  effect  of  which  is  satisfactory.  Across  the  nave,  one  bay  west 
of  the  choir,  there  is  an  arch  with  a  kind  of  triforium  gallery  across 
it,  pierced  on  each  side,  and  serving  apparently  for  a  passage-way 
only.  It  is  not  continued  up  to  the  groining. 
[306] 


THE   GREAT  S.  MARTIN,  COLOGNE 


Nearer  the  railway  there  is  another  large  church  with  a  con- 
tinuous clerestory  and  large  unfinished-looking  tower  at  the 
south-west  angle. 

There  are  some  other  churches,  but  not,  I  think,  of  great  interest. 
This,  however,  is  amply  afforded  by  the  magnificent  cathedral 
towering  so  grandly  over  the  town,  whose  only  defect  in  the 
distant  view  is  the  low  height  of  the  nave  as  compared  with  the 
choir  and  transepts. 

A  sluggish  train  took  me  in  five  or  six  hours  to  Namur  to  sleep, 
and  thence  early  the  next  morning  by  a  strikingly  beautiful  line  of 
railway  along  the  banks  of  the  Meuse;  and  passing  by  the  picturesque 
old  town  of  Huy,  with  its  fine  church  and  castle,  I  found  my  way 
to  Liege. 

The  churches  here  are  really  too  often  visited  and  too  well  known 
to  require  any  description  from  me.  I  think  the  little  church  of  S. 
Croix,  with  its  gabled  aisles  (the  gables  running  back  into  the  main 
roof),  pleased  me  as  much  as  anything;  it  is  just  the  kind  of  special 
town  church  which  we  want  to  see  more  in  fashion  in  our  own  large 
towns,  adapting  itself  boldly  to  every  variation  in  the  boundary  of 
the  land  on  which  it  is  built,  and  giving  a  very  considerable  effect 
of  height  without  extravagant  expense. 

The  metal  font  in  the  church  of  S.  Bartholomew  is  a  very  admi- 
rable work  of  art,  and  most  interesting  in  every  way. 

In  the  cathedral  is  a  new  pulpit,  by  Geefs,  much  praised  in  guide 
books,  but  not  a  favourable  specimen  of  his  powers,  1  trust. 

S.  Jacques,  S.  Martin,  and  other  churches  in  Liege  are  remark- 
able for  the  richness  of  their  internal  polychromatic  decorations. 
They  are  all,  however,  of  very  late  date,  quite  Renaissance  in  their 
design  and  colouring,  and  very  tawdry  in  effect  and  in  detail.  The 
east  end  of  S.  Jacques  is,  however,  very  impressive  owing  to  the  rich 
colour  of  the  glass  in  the  windows,  which  carries  the  decoration 
down  from  the  roof  to  the  fioor,  whilst  elsewhere,  the  roof  only  being 
painted,  and  the  whole  of  the  walls  left  in  the  coldest  white,  the 
effect  is  heavy  and  unsatisfactory.  We  have,  in  short,  here  a  good 
practical  proof  —  worth  a  thousand  arguments  —  that  colour  to  be 
successful  must  be  generally  diffused  and  not  confined  to  one  part 
of  a  building. 

From  Liege  to  Aix-la-Chapelle,  of  which  too  I  shall  say  but  little. 
The  choir  of  the  cathedral,  which  had  been  entirely  despoiled  of  its 
tracery,  is  being  gradually  and  well  restored.  It  is  both  a  noble 
and  a  very  peculiar  church,  and  perhaps  the  best  view  of  it  is  to  be 
obtained  from  the  staircase  in  the  old  Rathhaus.  How  striking  is 
the  immense  height  of  the  choir  as  compared  to  its  length,  and  how 
thoroughly  fine  and  picturesque  is  the  kind  of  dome,  surrounded 
at  its  base  with  gables,  which  crowns  the  polygonal  nave. 

[307] 


No  one  who  visits  Aix  should  omit  to  see  the  treasures  in  the 
sacristy  of  the  cathedral.  I  have  never  seen  anywhere  so  fine  a 
gathering  of  mediaeval  goldsmith's  work,  and  a  little  study  of  these 
old  remains  would  immensely  improve  the  work  of  the  few  men 
who  are  attempting  to  revive  the  old  glory  of  their  craft. 

The  Rathhaus  contains  in  its  upper  stage  a  fine  large  groined 
hall,  called  the  Kaiser-Saal,  divided  down  the  centre  by  columns 
and  arches;  it  is  approached  by  a  good  groined  staircase,  and  is 
now  being  restored  and  decorated  in  fresco,  by  a  Dusseldorf  artist, 
with  subjects  from  the  life  of  Charlemagne. 

Near  the  cathedral  is  a  valuable  remnant  of  good  domestic  work; 
it  has  windows  with  plate  tracery,  and  above  them  a  row  of  niches 
or  arcading,  the  divisions  of  the  arcade  being  filled  in  with  figures 
of  kings  in  a  very  effective  manner.  It  reminded  me  of  the  famous 
Maison  des  Musiciens,  at  Rheims. 

At  Aix  I  was  too  near  Cologne  to  omit  the  pleasure  of  spending 
another  day  among  its  crowd  of  architectural  treasures,  and  so, 
instead  of  going  to  Dusseldorf  direct,  I  gave  myself  a  holyday,  and 
renewed  all  my  old  recollections  of  its  many  glories. 

I  cannot  think  that  the  new  works  at  the  cathedral  are  so  satis- 
factory as  they  are  generally  said  to  be.  When  I  was  there  the 
scaffolding  had  just  been  removed  from  the  south  transept,  and 
the  effect  was  very  far  from  good;  there  was  a  degree  of  poverty  in 
the  execution  which  is  not  felt  in  the  old  work;  it  looks  thin,  "  liney  " 
and  attenuated,  and  makes  me  doubt  very  much,  first,  whether  it 
is  a  fair  reproduction  of  the  old  design;  and  next,  whether  the 
following  out  of  an  old  design  drawn  to  a  small  scale  is  possible 
without  very  great  powers  of  designing.  So  much  depends  upon 
detail. 

I  believe  that  the  building  in  Cologne  which  above  all  others 
ought  most  to  be  studied,  is  that  wonderful  church  of  S.  Gereon, 
the  interior  of  which  is  so  fine,  and  so  unlike  what  we  ever  think  of 
doing  in  our  new  work.  Its  nave  consists  of  an  irregular  decagon, 
entered  from  a  western  narthex,  and  surrounded  by  chapels,  from  the 
east  of  which  runs  a  long  and  spacious  choir,  approached  by  a  great 
flight  of  steps.  This  nave  is  about  65  feet  from  east  to  west, 
and  slightly  more  from  north  to  south;  forming  a  very  grand  un- 
broken area,  all  within  easy  reach  of  any  one  voice,  and,  from  its 
height  and  rich  character,  very  impressive.  The  choir  is  of  consid- 
erable length,  and  raised  on  a  crypt.  A  large  modern  altar  placed 
on  the  steps  leading  to  it  from  the  nave,  completely  conceals  it  in 
the  general  view,  and  much  mars  the  whole  effect. 

The  filth  of  the  church  when  I  was  there  was  extreme,  and  the 
noble  crypt  which  extends  under  the  whole  length  of  the  choir  was 
thoroughly  desecrated.    I  noticed  an  original  altar  in  a  side  chapel 

[308] 


in  the  crypt,  used  as  a  receptacle  for  candle-ends!  The  sacristy  of 
S.  Gereon  is  a  noble  middle-pointed  addition,  fitted  with  old  presses, 
and  with  some  very  beautiful  glass  in  the  windows.  This,  in  the 
tracery,  is  very  light  in  colour,  spotted  with  ruby. 

Next  in  grandeur,  perhaps,  to  this  church,  is  the  east  end  of  S. 
Martin's.  Seen  from  the  street  below  the  east  end,  its  great  height, 
and  the  combination  of  the  apsidal  transepts  and  choir  with  the 
fine  central  steeple  produce  very  great  effect.  It  is  worthy  of  notice, 
how  completely  similar  all  these  apsidal  terminations  are  in  Cologne, 
and  how  like  those  of  the  same  date  in  the  north  of  Italy.  The 
apses  here,  for  instance,  are  almost  exactly  like  that  of  the  choir  of 
S.  Maria  Maggiore  at  Bergamo. 

Cologne  is  rich  in  metal-work  and  early  stalls.  In  S.  Cunibert 
is  a  fine  brass  standard  for  lights,  with  a  crucifix;  in  the  choirs  of 
S.  Pantaleon  and  S.  Andrew,  some  good  thirteenth  century  stalls;  S. 
Gereon  has  also  some  old  candlesticks,  and  some  woodwork  worth 
notice,  as  also  have  some  of  the  other  churches. 

Perhaps  the  best  example  of  later  work  in  the  city  is  the  fine 
church  of  the  Minorites,  a  good  fourteenth  century  building,  with  a 
lofty  and  elegant  lead  turret  rising  out  of  the  centre  of  the  roof. 

I  found  in  several  of  the  Cologne  churches  services  in  the  morning, 
attended  exclusively  by  children.  They  had  no  seats,  but  a  succes- 
sion of  boards,  with  small  kneeling-stools  at  regular  intervals,  were 
provided  for  them.  The  singing  was  uncommonly  good  and  hearty, 
and  after  one  of  the  services  (at  S.  Maria  in  Capitolio),  I  asked  the 
children  about  it,  and  they  told  me  that  they  went  every  day  before 
school.  I  looked  at  some  of  their  school-books,  and  found  that  they 
had  a  rather  full  Scripture  history  abridgment;  and  among  other 
books  one  full  of  songs  and  hymns,  which  seemed  to  be  particularly 
good  and  spirited  —  hearty,  merry  songs,  which  would  be  sure  to 
take  with  children.  We  should  do  well  if  we  could  have  such  a 
service  and  such  books  for  our  English  children. 

There  was  an  exhibition  of  early  German  pictures  of  consider- 
able interest  in  the  old  hall  called  the  Gurzenich.  I  found  that  it 
was  organized  by  a  Christian  Art  Society,  which  has  a  large  number 
of  members,  and  seems  to  be  very  actively  at  work.  In  the  great 
hall  of  the  Gurzenich  is  a  magnificent  fire-place,  of  late  middle- 
pointed  date,  and  much  like  the  Courtrai  fire-place  in  general  idea; 
there  are  some  very  spirited  figures  in  armour  in  its  niches.  This 
building  is  well  known  on  the  exterior  by  its  general  ancient  char- 
acter, and  particularly  by  the  lead  canopies  over  the  figures  in  its 
lowest  stage. 

But  Cologne  is  too  well  known  to  make  any  more  of  my  notes 
(which  might  be  extended  to  tenfold  length)  palatable;  and  I 
shall,  therefore,  hurry  on  to  what  is,   I   believe,  newer  ground 

[309] 


to  most  ecclesiologists  than  are  its  time-honoured  and  well  known 
buildings. 

From  Deutz  (the  bridge  to  which  place  from  Cologne  affords  the 
best  general  view  of  the  city)  a  few  hours  of  railway  took  me  to 
Hamm,  and  thence  by  a  branch  I  reached  Miinster.  The  country 
here  is  cheerful  and  English-looking;  though  rather  flat,  it  is  woody 
and  well  cultivated,  and  thickly  populated,  —  at  least,  so  I  gathered 
by  the  multitude  of  passengers  who  swarmed  at  every  station,  all 
in  blue  smocks,  and  all  smoking  vehemently. 

The  churches  and  domestic  buildings  at  Munster  are  almost 
equally  interesting.  Of  the  latter,  the  Rathhaus  is  the  most  re- 
markable. It  is  very  elaborate  and  beautiful  in  all  its  details,  but 
(like  most  of  the  house-fronts  here)  boasts  of  a  regular  show  front. 
The  ground  stage  consists  of  four  open  arches;  the  next,  of  four 
richly-traceried  windows,  divided  by  figures  in  niches,  carved  with 
great  spirit;  and  above  this  is  an  immense  stepped  gable-end,  divided 
into  seven  panels  in  width,  and  rising  to  about  twice  the  height  of 
the  real  roof.  It  is  pinnacled,  and  filled  with  open  traceries,  which, 
being  pierced  above  the  roof,  show  the  sky  through  their  openings. 
The  lower  part  of  the  building  is  of  the  best  middle-pointed,  but 
in  the  gable  some  of  the  tracery  is  ogee  and  poor. 

This  front  was  followed  in  Munster  throughout  the  rest  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  as  also  by  the  Renaissance  school,  so  that  the  whole 
town  is  full  of  arcaded  streets,  like  an  Italian  town,  and  all  the 
houses  have  more  or  less  exaggerated  fronts,  stepped  and  pinnacled 
high  above  the  roof-line.  The  tout  ensemble  of  such  a  town,  it  may 
be  imagined,  is  picturesque  in  the  extreme,  though  not  so  valuable 
as  at  first  sight  it  seems  likely  to  prove  to  the  architectural  traveller. 
The  endless  repetition  of  the  same  —  and  that  a  bad  —  idea,  is 
very  tiresome,  and  so,  beautiful  as  is  the  Rathhaus  in  some  of  its 
detail,  and  striking  as  it  certainly  is  in  its  general  effect,  I  have  not 
forgiven  it  as  being  the  first  example  with  which  I  am  acquainted  of 
a  long  series  of  barbarisms. 

The  only  old  apartment  in  this  building,  so  far  as  I  could  dis- 
cover, is  a  room  called  the  Frieden-Saal.  It  is  a  low  council-chamber, 
of  late  date,  which  has  been  most  elaborately  restored,  and  renovated 
with  much  rich  colour.  There  are  some  very  good  hinges  and  locks 
on  a  series  of  closets  here. 

Of  the  churches,  there  are  some  five  or  six  old,  besides  some 
modern.  The  cathedral  is  very  curious.  Its  plan  shows  two  western 
towers,  then  a  transept;  a  nave  of  two  (I)  very  wide  bays;  transept 
again;  and  an  apsidal  choir,  with  several  apsidal  chapels  round  its 
aisle.  The  internal  effect  of  the  nave  is  singular.  It  is  very  simple, 
but  from  the  great  width  of  the  bays  rather  bold-looking.  The  most 
notable  things  here  are,  —  a  very  noble  brass  font;  a  brass  corona  in 
[310] 


the  choir;  a  stand  for  eleven  candles,  also  in  the  choir;  a  magnifi- 
cent stone  rood-screen  of  late  date ;  a  very  good  Sakraments-H'duslein, 
and  some  niches  for  relics,  etc.,  with  their  old  doors;  another  stand 
for  lights,  something  like  that  at  S.  Cunibert,  Cologne;  and  some 
stalls  of  the  seventeenth  century,  founded  very  closely  upon  medi- 
aeval examples.  The  brass  font  is  circular,  supported  upon  five 
lions,  the  two  eastern  of  which  are  standing,  the  others  recumbent. 
The  stem  is  covered  with  tracery  and  moulding,  and  the  bowl  has 
five  large  quatrefoiled  circles,  the  eastern  containing  the  Baptism  of 
our  Lord,  and  the  other  four  the  emblems  of  the  four  Evangelists, 
with  scrolls  and  inscriptions  in  red  letters;  above  them,  a  trefoiled 
arcade  contains  half-figures  of  the  twelve  Apostles.  The  corona  is 
large,  containing  fifty  candles  in  one  row;  but  it  is  of  late  date,  and 
frittered  away  in  elaborate  tracery  and  crocketing.  The  rood- 
screen  has  two  doorways  —  one  on  each  side  of  an  altar  in  the  centre 
of  its  west  front.  This  altar  still  remains,  with  a  sculpture  of  the 
Crucifixion  at  its  back,  but  is  not  used  now,  a  modern  altar  having 
been  put  up  in  front  of  it.  Two  very  light  open  staircases  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  screen  lead  to  the  Gospel  and  Epistle  sides  of 
the  loft.  There  is  also  a  very  fine  and  large  crucifix  against  one  of 
the  nave  piers. 

The  main  entrance  to  the  cathedral  is  through  a  sort  of  Galilee 
of  Romanesque  date  adorned  with  a  number  of  fine  statues:  this 
is  at  the  south-west  of  the  church,  whilst  on  its  north  side  are  some 
fair  middle-pointed  cloisters. 

Next  to  the  cathedral  in  importance  is  the  Oberwasser-Kirche,  a 
late  middle-pointed  building;  it  has  a  large  south-west  tower  very 
much  of  the  same  type  as  the  great  tower  at  Ypres,  having  four 
windows  of  two  lights  in  each  stage,  and  four  stages  all  exactly  alike, 
and  above  them  an  octagonal  belfry  stage  of  later  date.  The  first 
example  of  this  kind  of  design  is  seen  in  the  four  belfry  windows  of 
the  cathedral  at  Soest,  and  still  more  remarkably  in  the  steeple  of 
Paderborn  cathedral,  but  here  it  is  developed  into  even  greater  regu- 
larity. This  design,  however,  is  poor  in  kind,  and  only  respectable 
when  characterized  as  at  Soest  and  Paderborn  by  massive  simplicity. 
The  south  door  of  the  Oberwasser-Kirche  is  good,  being  double  with 
square  openings  within  an  arched  head.  Internally  the  church  is 
very  lofty  and  light,  but  of  no  great  length,  and  has  an  eastern  apse, 
and  some  traces  of  old  wall  painting.  A  very  good  brass  water  vat 
hung  from  a  small  crane  by  the  north  door  and  served  as  a  stoup 
for  holy  water;  this  is  a  common  plan  in  the  Munster  churches.^ 

This  church  was  being  scraped  of  paint  and  whitewash;  so  also 


^  I  have  given  a  drawing  of  this  \it  in  the  Instrumenta  Ecclesi- 
astica. 


[311] 


In  the  cathedral  they  were  removing  some  trumpery  work  of  the 
last  century,  and  indeed  generally  in  this  district  a  good  deal  is 
being  done  to  the  finer  churches,  and  in  most  of  them  a  box  is  pro- 
vided for  offerings  for  the  restoration  of  the  fabric:  in  most,  I 
should  say,  which  are  not  "  evangelical ":  —  for  in  these,  save  where 
the  government  is  repairing  the  stone  work,  they  seem  to  be  satis- 
fied to  put  up  pews  and  galleries,  to  keep  the  doors  well  locked,  and 
to  make  their  interiors  look  as  cold,  miserable,  and  repulsive  as 
possible.  Happily,  however,  the  "evangelical"  church  is  not  very 
actively  mischievous  in  architectural  matters,  and  so  one  sees  altars 
and  reredoses  still  standing  with  candles  and  crucifixes,  and  curtains 
of  white  muslin  or  silk  on  each  side,  sometimes,  as  in  the  Petri- 
Kirche  at  Soest,  double,  first,  on  each  side  of  the  altar,  and  then  the 
same  height  as  the  altar,  and  coming  forward  the  full  width  of  the 
footpace!^  In  the  old  altars,  there  are  always  arrangements  for 
closets  —  generally  at  one  end  — whilst  in  the  middle  of  the  back 
of  the  altar  is  often  an  opening,  which  I  fancied  might  have  been 
made  for  the  reception  of  relics,  but  which  seldom  seems  carefully 
enough  fastened;  the  ends  of  the  super-altars  have  also,  very  fre- 
quently, closets;  generally  speaking,  the  altars  in  this  district  are 
solid  masses  of  masonry  with  a  projecting  and  moulded  mensa. 
This,  however,  is  a  digression,  and  I  must  now  say  somewhat  of  the 
Lamberti-Kirche,  which  is  next  to  the  cathedral  the  best  church  in 
Munster.  Externally  it  has  a  western  tower  ^  of  considerable  dimen- 
sions dwarfed  in  appearance  by  the  immense  size  of  the  roof  which 
covers  both  nave  and  aisles;  this  is  a  not  uncommon  arrangement  in 
this  district,  and  has  a  parallel,  as  will  be  remembered,  in  the  noble 
choir  of  S.  Laurence  at  Nuremberg.  Its  main  result  is  the  great 
internal  effect  of  height  in  the  aisles  and  the  opportunity  it  affords 
of  obtaining  what  Germans  were  so  fond  of  —  an  immense  length 
of  window  opening.  The  entrance  to  S.  Lambert  on  the  south  side 
is  by  a  very  beautiful  doorway;  the  doorway  itself  is  not  very  large 
but  its  jamb  mould  runs  up  to  a  great  height  and  encloses  a  fine 
sculptured  tree  of  Jesse;  the  branches  of  the  tree  form  a  series  of 
medallions,  in  each  of  which  is  a  half  figure;  the  whole  is  very  rich 
in  its  effect,  and  the  sculpture  quite  exquisite.  Internally  the  only 
remarkable  piece  of  furniture  I  noted  was  a  very  fine  rood.  The 
proportions  and  arrangements  of  the  church  are  very  similar  to 


^  It  must  be  understood  that  these  are  not  the  original  curtains; 
but  that  the  Lutherans  have  here  preserved  an  old  arrangement  is 
very  evident. 

'  On  the  south  side  of  this  steeple  still  hang  the  iron  cages  in 
which  John  of  Leyden  and  his  confreres  were  suspended  before  their 
execution. 

[312] 


those  of  the  famous  Wiesen-Kirche,  at  Soest,  which  I  shall  have 
presently  to  describe,  and  mainly  noticeable  for  the  great  effect  of 
unbroken  space,  owing  to  the  large  span  and  great  height  of  the 
arches,  and  the  small  number  of  piers  supporting  the  roof. 

Two  other  churches  near  this  afforded  little  worth  notice.  One 
of  them  was  Protestant,  and  as  a  consequence,  was  elaborately 
pewed  and  galleried ;  it  was  seven  or  eight  bays  in  length,  and  groined 
throughout,  and  entered  by  a  good  double  door.  The  other  was 
very  similar,  and  had  a  curious  kind  of  narthex  under  the  western 
tower. 

The  Ludgeri-Kirche  is  of  more  interest,  having  a  fine  octagonal 
belfry  of  late  date;  this  was  undergoing  repair,  as  was  also  the 
church,  whose  nave  is  of  simple  Romanesque  with  a  good  middle- 
pointed  apse.  There  is  another  church  of  small  size  with  an  eastern 
apse,  and  a  very  low  gabled  tower  at  the  north-west  angle.  This 
is  near  the  railway  station. 

For  two  things  besides  her  domestic  buildings  Munster  is  cer- 
tainly to  be  remembered:  these  are  the  brass  work  and  the  sculp- 
ture; the  latter  is  generally  remarkably  good,  and  I  think  I  have 
seldom  seen  more  spirited  figures  than  I  saw  there. 

In  a  silversmith's  shop,  opposite  the  Lamberti-Kirche,  I  found  a 
magnificent  old  monstrance,  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  of  very 
elaborate  detail;  it  belonged  to  a  church  some  miles  distant,  the 
name  of  which  I  have  forgotten;  this  man  was  making  church  plate 
in  very  fair  fashion,  copying  old  examples  with  some  care  and  with 
a  good  deal  of  feeling  and  enthusiasm;  I  need  hardly  say  that  such 
men  are  as  rare  on  the  Continent  as  they  are  here. 

From  Munster  I  returned  to  Hamm,  and  thence  by  another 
branch  railway  to  Soest,  travelling  through  a  country  without  any 
feature  by  which  to  remember  it  save  its  interminable  rows  of  poplars. 

The  first  view  of  Soest  from  the  railway  is  striking;  several 
steeples,  of  which  that  of  the  cathedral  is  the  grandest,  stand  up 
well  behind  a  bank  of  trees,  and  a  great  extent  of  picturesque  and 
half-ruined  old  town  walls. 

The  town  itself  is  very  curious,  much  more  like  some  large 
Swiss  village,  such  as  one  remembers  in  the  Upper  Valais  or  the  Has- 
li-Thal,  than  any  other  cathedral  town  that  I  know  in  northern 
Europe.  The  streets  are  all  absurdly  irregular,  bending  and  twist- 
ing about  in  every  possible  direction,  and  full  of  half-timbered  houses, 
which  are  all  corbelled  forward  and  seem  generally  to  be  very  an- 
cient. I  think,  indeed,  that  I  have  never  seen  more  picturesque 
grouping  of  old  buildings,  but  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  how  they  can 
have  preserved  their  old  character  so  intact;  there  is  absolutely, 
I  believe,  not  one  shop  with  a  shop  front  or  display  of  its  wares  of 
any  kind,  and  hardly  more  than  one  modernized  house,  and  this  is  a 

[313] 


smart  little  inn  with  a  nice  garden,  and  a  large  Speise-Saal  whose 
walls  were  literally  covered  with  English  prints,  many  of  them  old 
and  very  good.  The  population  of  the  place  consists  nevertheless 
of  some  seven  or  eight  thousand  persons. 

The  churches  have  some  very  remarkable  features,  of  which  the 
most  singular  is  a  kind  of  narthex  at  the  west  end,  not  forming 
part  of  the  fabric,  but  built  within  the  churches,  the  main  groining 
extending  on  over  it  to  the  west  end,  and  a  large  gallery  being  formed 
above  it.  The  best  example  of  this  is  in  S.  Peter's,  and  I  shall  leave, 
for  the  present,  a  detailed  description  of  it. 

The  cathedral  is  a  great,  rude,  desolate-looking  church  with  but 
few  remains  of  any  interest,  save  at  the  west  end,  out  of  the  centre 
of  which  rises  a  fine  simple  Romanesque  steeple.  This  has  five 
single-light  windows  in  the  stage  above  the  roof,  and  four  three-light 
windows  above  them.  Then  above  this  belfry-stage  is  on  each  face 
a  steep  gable,  filled  in  with  openings  of  varied  shapes  — on  one 
side,  a  large  circular  window,  with  three  other  small  openings,  and 
on  another  side  three  large  windows  of  three  lights,  and  a  very 
small  circular  window.  These  gables  are  not  the  full  width  of  the 
tower,  and  from  the  angles  between  them  rise  four  tall  and  massive 
pinnacles,  slightly  ornamented  with  corbel  tables  under  the  eaves, 
and  covered  with  steep  pyramidal  metal  roofs.  The  spire  is  of  metal, 
octagonal  in  section,  —  the  angles  of  the  octagon  springing  from  the 
apices  of  the  four  gables,  and  from  the  internal  angles  of  the  four 
pinnacles.  The  size  and  solidity  of  this  remarkable  tower  give 
great  grandeur  to  it,  and  whilst  in  the  treatment  of  its  lower  part  we 
see  the  type  of  so  many  of  the  towers  of  later  date  in  this  district,  in 
that  of  the  spire  we  see  the  precursor  of  those  noble  spires  rising  from 
simple  gabled  towers  which  are  the  glory  of  Liineburg  and  Lubeck. 

In  addition  to  an  internal  narthex,  the  cathedral  has,  in  front  of 
its  tower,  another  groined  sort  of  passage-way,  opening  to  the  west 
with  six  arches,  and  to  the  north  and  south  with  one  arch.  There 
is  a  second  stage  above  these  arches,  and  then  from  behind  this 
mass  rises  the  steeple.  The  whole  of  this  part  of  the  building  is 
Romanesque,  as,  indeed,  is  the  substance  of  the  entire  church 
though  it  has  been  much  mutilated  by  modern  additions  and  alter- 
ations. The  interior  is  painfully  neglected  and  dirty,  though  it  is, 
I  believe,  the  only  Catholic  church  in  the  place.  The  eastern  apse 
has  upon  its  groining  some  painting,  which  seems  to  be  ancient 
and  very  good,  having  figures  of  saints  etc.,  on  a  large  scale,  but  it 
is  very  much  hidden  by  an  odious  modern  reredos.  There  is  a  good 
wooden  crucifix  against  one  of  the  piers,  and  some  fine  very  early 
glass  in  the  transepts  windows.  Early  in  the  morning,  when  I  went 
again  into  the  cathedral  I  found  it  full  of  people  singing  well  and 
very  heartily. 

[314] 


The  church  of  S.  Peter  stands  close  to  the  cathedral;  and  its  choir 
and  aisles,  ending  with  three  apses  and  steep  slated  roofs,  its  windows 
filled  with  middle-pointed  traceries,  with  the  old  steeple  at  the  west 
end  capped  with  a  modern  bulbous  spire,  group  very  picturesquely 
with  the  stern  and  grand  steeple  of  the  cathedral.  In  plan  it  con- 
sists of  a  nave  and  aisles,  of  four  primary  bays  (each  bay  being 
subdivided  by  two  arches  opening  into  the  aisles),  transepts,  choir 
and  apsidal  choir-aisles,  opening  into  the  transepts.  The  two  west- 
ern bays  of  the  nave  are  again  subdivided  into  three  divisions  north 
and  south,  and  four  divisions  east  and  west;  all  this  space  being 
groined  over  at  a  low  level,  and  having  a  floor  above,  forming  a 
gallery  level  with  the  triforium,  which  also  is  large  and  spacious. 
The  internal  effect  of  this  low,  dark  entrance-way  is  most  peculiar. 
In  S.  Peter's,  its  length  from  east  to  west  is  nearly  46  feet  — just 
half  the  whole  length  of  the  nave!  The  architecture  of  the  church 
generally  is  not  otherwise  very  interesting;  though  the  east  end  is 
good,  and  has  some  fragments  of  fair  glass  still  remaining.  I  have 
already  mentioned  the  curious  arrangement  of  the  curtains  on  each 
side  of  the  Lutheran  altar  here. 

S.  Paul's  is  another  church  of  precisely  the  same  type.  It  has  a 
good  western  steeple,  with  a  very  steep  square  roof,  or  rather,  I 
should  say,  a  low  spire.  The  stages  of  the  tower  are  repetitions  of 
each  other.  Both  this  church  and  S.  Peter's  are  disfigured  by  a 
wonderful  accumulation  of  pews  and  galleries;  there  is  still,  how- 
ever, in  the  sacristy,  a  very  good  press,  of  three  divisions  in  width 
and  two  in  height. 

I  come,  last,  to  the  Wiesen-Kirche,  a  most  remarkable  building, 
of  whose  history,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  know  absolutely  nothing.  It 
appears,  however,  to  have  been  all  erected  at  one  period  —  in  the 
first  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  —  and  its  scale  is  so  fine,  and  its 
character  throughout  so  good,  that  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  most 
noticeable  churches  in  the  north  of  Germany.  Moreover,  in  internal 
effect,  I  think  I  know  no  church  of  the  same  size  which  can  vie  with 
it  for  exquisite  grace  and  elegance  and,  at  the  same  time,  boldness 
and  grandeur  of  conception. 

The  plan  may  be  described  as  a  nave  and  aisles,  of  only  three 
bays  in  length,  about  76  feet  in  width,  and  100  feet  in  length;  the 
nave  and  aisles  each  terminating  in  an  apse  at  the  east,  whilst  at 
the  west  end  there  is  an  unfinished  front,  which  seems  to  have  been 
intended  to  have  two  towers.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  such  a 
west  front  could  ever  have  been  suitable  for  a  building  which  was 
in  no  other  respect  more  than  a  mere  chapel.  It  was  never,  however, 
at  all  nearly  completed;  and  now  a  tall  slated  spire  finishes  one  of 
the  stunted  towers  in  a  fashion  which  is  picturesque  in  the  distant 
view,  but  very  unsatisfactory  when  seen  close  at  hand.    The  nave 

[315] 


and  aisles  are  covered  with  one  great  roof,  and  groined  at  the  same 
level.  The  four  nave  columns  are  very  lofty,  and  without  any 
capitals;  the  mouldings  being  continuous  to  the  groining;  there 
being  no  more  than  four  points  of  support  in  a  square  of  about  76 
by  120  feet,  it  may  be  imagined  that  from  every  point  the  whole 
interior  is  visible.  The  windows  are  of  immense  height,  but  judi- 
ciously treated,  as  in  the  clerestory  windows  at  Cologne,  by  the  ar- 
rangement of  colour  in  the  glass;  besides  which,  a  kind  of  transom 
of  quatrefoils  runs  through  all  the  windows  at  about  one-fourth  of 
the  whole  height.  Below  this  transom,  the  glass  is  very  rich  and  dark 
in  colour;  above  the  transom,  for  about  half  its  height,  there  are 
figures  under  canopies,  also  dark  with  colour,  and  then  a  long  sweep 
of  beautiful  grisaille  runs  up  to  the  head  of  the  windows,  the  pat- 
terns being  all  geometrical,  and  defined  by  delicate  lines  of  colour: 
the  whole  is  very  jewelly  and  brilliant,  and  fortunately  a  good  deal 
remains.  This  is,  indeed,  just  one  of  those  buildings  which  depends 
very  much  for  its  proper  effect  upon  all  its  windows  being  filled  with 
coloured  glass.  All  the  old  altars  remain,  though  the  church  is 
Protestant.  There  is  one  in  each  apse,  and  one  against  the  west 
side  of  the  two  easternmost  of  the  nave  columns.  All  the  altars 
have  closets  in  their  ends,  and  the  one  against  the  south-east  column 
of  the  nave  has  a  portion  of  a  very  good  middle-pointed  stone  rere- 
dos  and  is  itself  richly  panelled  below  the  mensa.  Behind  another 
altar  in  the  north-eastern  apse,  there  is  the  remnant  of  a  very  fine 
middle-pointed  rood  of  wood,  which  is  now  nailed  up  behind  a 
late  triptych.  There  is  a  very  good  early  Sakraments-Hduslein  in 
the  north  wall,  and  a  good  locker  in  the  south  wall  of  the  principal 
apse,  both  with  old  iron  doors.  On  two  side  altars  in  the  nave, 
there  have  been  erected  some  very  fine  pieces  of  late  tabernacle- 
work.  They  have  been  brought  from  elsewhere;  and  I  saw  no  place 
in  the  church  from  which  they  can  have  been  taken.  Another 
similar  piece  of  stone  work  has  been  set  up  in  the  midst  of  the  choir, 
and  a  door  pierced  through  it  leads  into  a  pulpit,  which  grows  out 
of  and  rests  on  the  Lutheran  altar!  The  north  and  south  doorways 
are  very  fine;  the  latter  having  a  window  above  it  within  the  same 
arch,  in  the  common  German  fashion.  The  whole  church  has  an 
open  parapet  and  lofty  buttresses,  with  rather  small  pinnacles. 
The  view  from  the  east  is  certainly  very  striking;  and  though  the 
idea  is  completely  that  of  a  chapel,  rather  than  of  a  more  ambitious 
church,  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest  chapels  of  its  size  that  I  have 
ever  seen.  The  whole  building  is  being  restored  at  the  expense  of 
the  King  of  Prussia,  and  at,  I  should  think,  very  great  cost,  as  it 
had  suffered  much  from  decay. 


[316] 


GERMAN   POINTED  ARCHITECTURE 

Some  apology  is  necessary  for  venturing  to  attempt  to  grapple 
with  so  large  a  subject  as  is  that  of  pointed  architecture  in  Germany. 
My  only  excuse  for  making  such  an  attempt  must  be  the  vivid 
recollection  of  the  journeys  I  have  at  different  times  made  in  that 
country,  and  the  desire  to  help  cordially  in  explaining  to  those 
who  have  still  the  journey  before  them,  the  features  which  char- 
acterize its  architecture, 

I  have  unfortunately  been  unable  to  hear  what  Mr.  Parker  has 
told  you  of  pointed  architecture  in  France;  but  no  doubt  he  has 
dilated  with  sufficient  enthusiasm  upon  the  exquisite  art  there  seen, 
upon  the  skill  in  the  disposition  of  the  ground  plans—  never  equalled 
elsewhere  —  upon  the  beauty  and  vigour  of  the  sculpture,  and  upon 
the  nervous  manliness  and  at  the  same  time  delicacy  of  the^art  in 
nearly  all  the  buildings  of  the  best  period,  at  least  in  the  old  Ile-de- 
France,  in  Picardy,  and  in  Normandy.  I  grieve  to  say  that  I  shall 
be  able  to  give  no  such  commendation  to  German  architecture,  and 
that,  delightful  as  the  recollections  of  what  I  have  seen  there  are,  I 
cannot  nevertheless  shut  my  eyes  to  the  fact  that  in  most  respects 
it  is  entirely  inferior  to  the  development  of  the  same  style  in  France 
and  England. 

There  are  at  the  same  time  some  peculiarities  in  the  dates  of  old 
German  work  which  are  rather  striking  in  comparison  with  English 
and  French  works. 

You  have,  then,  first  of  all,  a  few  buildings,  such  as  the  convent 
at  Lorsch,  which  are  said  to  be  and  perhaps  are  of  Roman  design. 
Then  next  there  is  an  immense  group  of  churches  of  which  those  of 
Cologne  and  the  Rhineland  are  the  most  distinguished  examples, 
which,  whilst  it  is  entirely  unlike  anything  in  the  rest  of  northern 
Europe,  has  a  most  remarkable  affinity  to  the  Lombard  churches  in 
the  north  of  Italy,  at  Pavia,  Bergamo,  and  elsewhere.  These 
churches  date  from  the  early  part  or  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury and  continue  with  but  little  alteration  of  importance  down  to 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth,  when  the  strange  spectacle  is  seen  of  a 
style  almost  completely  Romanesque  in  its  character  suddenly  sup- 
planted by  another  style  which,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  in  no  way  grew 
out  of  it,  and  which  is  distinguished  from  the  first  by  peculiarities  of 

[317] 


a  most  marked  kind,  and  by  the  perfect  and  complete  form  which  it 
at  once  assumed.  Then  after  this  style,  which  again  in  its  turn  re- 
tained its  hold  longer  than  our  styles  ever  did,  and  which  to  a  late 
period  is  altered  only  slightly  in  its  detail,  you  will  find  another 
essentially  German  style  answering  in  point  of  date  to  our  later  third- 
pointed  and  to  French  flamboyant.  The  Germans  have  therefore 
less  natural  growth  to  show  in  their  architecture  than  we  have. 
Instead  of  our  beautiful  gradations  from  Romanesque  to  third- 
pointed  in  which  the  germ  of  each  development  is  to  be  discovered 
in  the  antecedent  work,  you  have  there  a  series  of  breaks  or  gaps 
in  the  chain  which  it  is  very  difficult  to  account  for,  and  which  make 
the  study  of  the  style  highly  interesting,  and  at  the  same  time 
somewhat  perplexing. 

The  question  seems  naturally  to  arise  whether  each  of  these  new 
styles,  thus  wanting  in  evidence  of  natural  growth  one  out  of  the 
other,  is  to  be  looked  at  as  a  German  invention  in  the  true  sense  of 
the  word,  or  as  the  result  of  the  sudden  conversion  of  a  slow  and 
sluggish  people  to  the  beauties  of  foreign  work,  and  then  their  reso- 
lute and  hearty  earnestness  in  the  attempt  to  make  the  style  their 
own  by  some  infusion  of  national  peculiarities. 

I  incline  to  this  last  opinion  because  I  believe  that  no  style  was 
ever  invented.  Architecture  has  always  grown  gradually  and  sys- 
tematically, and  it  is  quite  possible  to  imagine  that  Germany  may 
have  refused  to  follow  the  lead  of  France  and  England  in  art  until 
their  superiority  was  so  great  as  to  make  it  an  absolute  matter  of 
necessity,  and  that  then  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  give  a  national 
character  to  what  they  had  in  the  first  place  borrowed. 

A  slight  comparison  of  dates  of  a  few  buildings  will  explain  my 
grounds  for  speaking  as  I  do  of  German  architecture. 

Of  the  Rhine  churches  the  most  remarkable  are  the  work  of  the 
thirteenth  century.  S.  Gereon  at  Cologne  was  commenced  a.d. 
1200  and  vaulted  in  a.d.  1227.  S.  Cunibert  was  in  building  from 
A.D.  1205  to  A.D.  1248,  when  it  was  consecrated.  Naumburg  has  a 
nave  of  a.d.  1200.  Limburg  is  early  in  the  thirteenth  century;  and 
Bamberg  the  same;  whilst  Gelnhausen  was  in  building  from  a.d. 
1250  to  a.d.  1370.  Now  all  these  churches  are  of  such  a  character 
that  were  we  to  see  them  in  France  we  should  at  once  put  them 
down  as  the  work  of  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  we  should 
look  for  another  class  to  fill  up  the  period  between  a.d.  1200  and 
A.D.  1270,  when  Cologne  was  commenced  or  the  nave  of  Strasburg 
completed.  You  will  see  how  important  these  dates  are  when  you 
consider  that  at  the  same  time  that  S.  Gereon  and  S.  Cunibert  at 
Cologne,  the  choir  of  Magdeburg,  and  Gelnhausen,  were  being  built, 
Amiens  cathedral,  S.  Denis  and  other  churches  of  the  same  kind 
were  rising  throughout  France,  whilst  in  England  Westminster  and 

[318] 


a  host  of  other  churches  of  late  first-pointed  were  built  at  the  same 
time.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  absolutely  that  no  transitional  build- 
ings are  to  be  found,  but  only  that  they  were  of  extraordinary  rarity 
and  do  not  afford  the  same  evidence  of  natural  growth  that  our 
own  do. 

Of  work  really  similar  to  our  own  first-pointed  I  can  hardly 
give  you  more  than  one  example,  and  that  at  Lubeck  in  the  north 
porch  of  the  cathedral,  where  —  to  say  the  least  —  the  paternity  of 
the  work  may  well  be  doubtful.  Of  a  later  style  and  almost  unique 
in  its  character,  is  the  fine  church  of  S.  Elizabeth,  at  Marburg,  a 
church  whose  date  is  well  known  (a.d.  1235  to  a.d.  1283),  and 
which  affords  us  one  of  the  few  German  examples  of  a  style  inter- 
mediate between  the  work  at  S.  Gereon  and  that  of  Cologne 
cathedral.  This  will  be  seen  by  the  sketches  i  which  I  have  here,  in 
which,  however,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  design  of  the  nave  and 
apsidal  terminations  of  the  choir  and  transepts  are  the  early  por- 
tions of  the  work,  and  that  the  fittings  and  west  front  date  nearer 
the  end  of  the  century.  In  the  still  beautiful  reredos  I  think  we  may 
see  the  traces  of  an  incipient  departure  from  the  style  of  the  earlier 
work,  and  an  approach  to  identity  with  what  I  must  consider  as 
the  inferior  art  of  the  thorough  German  Gothic,  as  it  is  seen  in  its 
perfection  in  the  cathedral  at  Cologne. 

The  aisles  of  the  nave  of  Magdeburg  cathedral  seem  also  to  me 
to  be  vastly  superior  to  any  other  German  work  of  the  date  that 
I  know,  whilst  the  western  rood-screen  and  some  of  the  details 
of  the  western  choir  at  Naumburg  are  also  of  a  degree  of  beauty 
which  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  surpass  elsewhere.  The  aisles 
of  Paderborn  cathedral,  too,  are  of  a  peculiar  but  exceedingly 
good  character.  But  these  are,  as  I  think,  only  exceptions  which 
serve  to  prove  the  rule,  and  cannot  in  any  degree  be  taken  as 
evidence  of  the  same  kind  of  growth  and  gradual  development 
that  we  trace  with  so  much  interest  in  every  church  and  building 
of  the  Middle  Ages  in  England.  It  was  an  architecture  of  fits 
and  starts  and  conceits,  not  of  growth,  and  full  therefore  of  the  con- 
tradictions and  eccentricities  which  such  a  condition  necessarily 
involves.  And  now  having  so  far  paved  the  way  by  a  short  state- 
ment of  what  is  really  the  great  peculiarity  of  German  architecture, 
I  will  go  on  to  consider  and  describe  the  several  varieties  of  the 
style  rather  more  in  detail. 

And  first  of  all,  as  to  the  ground-plan.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that 
each  national  style  of  pointed  architecture  has  been  distinguished 
by  its  adherence  to  some  peculiarity  of  ground-plan,  as  well  as  by 


1  This  paper  was  read  before  the  Oxford  Architectural  Society, 
inl857.  — G.G.  K. 

[319] 


other  distinctive  features.  In  England,  we  all  know  how  great  was 
the  love  for  the  square  east  end,  and  how  strong  the  desire  to  extend 
the  length  of  the  nave  to  a  sometimes  almost  unreasonable  extent. 
In  France,  you  know  how  steadily  the  apsidal  termination  was 
adhered  to,  and  how  completely  it  was  the  rule  to  have  an  aisle  and 
chapels  round  the  apse,  making,  in  some  of  the  finer  French  churches, 
an  approach  to  absolute  perfection  of  effect.  You  know,  too,  how 
very  rare  the  square  east  end  was  in  France,  and  yet  how  equally 
rare  was  any  but  a  square  end  to  the  transepts.  In  Italy,  again, 
there  are  peculiarities.  Either  you  have  immense  halls,  wide  and 
long  beyond  all  other  examples,  and  borrowed,  no  doubt,  from  the 
ancient  basilica;  or  apsidal  churches,  in  which  the  aisles  do  not 
extend  round  the  apse,  and  a  series  of  apsidal  chapels  are  sometimes 
added  to  the  east  of  the  transepts. 

In  Germany,  as  I  shall  show,  we  have  an  equally  distinct  class  of 
ground-plans.  The  apsidal  termination,  though  most  general,  does 
not  altogether  supplant  the  square  end;  but  it  is  remarkable,  that 
unlike  the  beautiful  chevets  of  the  French  churches,  the  German 
apses  are  rarely  surrounded  with  aisles  or  chapels.  They  are  either 
simply  apsidal,  or  parallel  triapsidal,  or  transverse  triapsidal,  and 
the  main  difference  between  early  and  late  examples,  is  to  be  found 
in  the  introduction  of  that  angularity  which  gradually  became  the 
great  feature  of  all  German  work.  The  early  apsidal  terminations 
were  all  circular:  as,  for  instance,  in  the  Apostles'  church,  at  Cologne; 
whilst  in  Marburg,  and  later,  in  the  little  chapel  of  S.  Werner,  at 
Bacharach,  though  the  transverse  triapsidal  plan  is  identical  in 
other  respects,  it  differs  in  that  the  apses  are  polygonal,  instead  of 
circular.  At  Bonn,  the  eastern  apse  is  circular,  the  transeptal  apse 
polygonal;  and  you  may  always  take  this  as  one  of  the  certain  evi- 
dences of  later  date,  in  works  which  may  otherwise  very  nearly 
correspond. 

Of  parallel  triapsidal  churches,  the  church  at  Laach,  and  S. 
James  at  Ratisbon,  are  early  examples;  whilst  Ratisbon  cathedral, 
S.  Catherine,  Liibeck,  the  Marien-Kirche  at  Muhlhausen,  and  the 
Wiesen-Kirche  at  Soest,  are  examples  of  the  same  plan  angularized 
at  a  later  day.  And  you  should  note,  that  this  parallel  triapsidal 
plan  is  by  far  the  most  common  of  German  plans  in  all  ages,  and  is, 
moreover,  one  of  which  scarcely  any  examples  exist  out  of  Germany.^ 

Sometimes,  as  in  S.  Nicholas,  Lemgo,  whilst  the  choir  is  apsidal, 
the  east  end  of  the  aisles  is  square;  but  this  is  a  rather  rare  and 
very  bad  plan.    In  all  these  varieties  of  arrangement,  there  is  no 


1  Street  was  not  yet  familiar  with  the  Spanish  churches,  in  which 
it  is  the  dominant  native  form.  Cf.  Gothic  Architecture  in  Spain, 
new  edition,  I,  58.  — G.  G.  K. 

[320] 


comparison  for  a  minute  with  the  beauty  of  the  French  chevet; 
but  it  is  right  to  observe,  that  there  are  some  examples  of  imitation 
of  this  better  type. 

One  of  the  earliest  and  most  interesting,  is  the  church  of  S. 
Godehard,  at  Hildesheim,  in  which  we  have  the  aisle  round  the  apse, 
with  three  apsidal  chapels,  as  well  as  apsidal  chapels  east  of  the  tran- 
septs. This  plan  was  imitated  in  the  grand  parish  church  of  S.  James, 
also  at  Hildesheim,  at  a  much  later  date.  The  apse  of  Magdeburg 
cathedral  is  very  much  like  that  of  S.  Godehard,  but  of  rather  later 
date,  and  remarkable  for  the  profusion  of  dogtooth  in  its  cornices. 
In  both,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  small  chapels  round  the  apse 
are  mere  excrescences,  and  finish  with  stone  roofs  below  the  para- 
pet of  the  aisle.  The  Marien-Kirche  at  Lubeck  is  a  later  example 
of  a  chevet,  whilst  at  Cologne  cathedral,  in  emulation  of  Amiens, 
a  plan  of  the  best  kind  was  adopted,  and  again  wrought  out  on  a 
smaller  scale  at  Altenberg.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  was  not 
only  in  emulation  but  also  in  imitation  of  a  French  church,  that  this 
plan  was  designed.  Scarcely  another  German  church  is  at  all  like 
it,  whereas  its  plan  was  the  common  one  in  France.  In  the  Marien- 
Kirche  at  Lubeck,  where  there  is  an  aisle  round  the  apse,  it  is  formed 
in  the  most  clumsy  manner,  by  enlarging  the  chapels;  whilst  S. 
Giles,  at  Brunswick,  illustrates  another  and  unsuccessful  plan,  viz., 
an  apse,  with  the  surrounding  aisle,  but  no  chapels. 

I  believe  one  of  the  reasons  for  this  difference  between  French 
and  German  plans  is  to  be  found  in  the  very  remarkable  objection 
which  the  Germans  always  exhibited  to  any  departure  from  correct 
orientation  of  any  of  their  altars.  In  the  French  chevet,  it  is  im- 
possible to  attend  to  this;  and  hence,  in  a  country  where  the  feeling 
was  strong  on  the  point,  it  would  be  felt  to  be  an  unsuitable  form. 
I  believe  that  it  was  so  felt  in  England,  where,  to  the  present  day, 
the  prejudice  in  favour  of  strict  orientation  is  stronger  than  in  any 
other  country  in  Europe. 

In  Germany,  we  have  most  remarkable  evidence  of  the  feeling. 
At  Magdeburg,  for  example,  the  altars  in  the  apse  of  the  cathedral 
are  all  placed  with  their  fronts  facing  due  west,  and  cutting,  there- 
fore, in  the  strangest  way  across  all  the  main  architectural  lines  of 
the  building.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  the  parallel  triapsidal  plan 
was  so  popular. 

But  there  is  another  most  curious  arrangement  of  plan,  to  which 
I  must  refer;  that,  namely,  of  which  Laach,  Bamberg,  Worms, 
Mayence,  S.  Sebald,  Nuremberg,  and  Naumburg,  are  remarkable 
examples,  in  which  both  east  and  west  ends  have  apsidal  choirs. 
The  object  of  these  western  choirs  is  not  very  intelligible;  but  in 
that  at  Naumburg,  we  have  most  curious  evidence  of  what  I  have 
before  referred  to:  for  the  original  altar  in  the  western  apse  faces 
[321] 


west,  and  has  its  back,  therefore,  towards  the  nave,  so  that  the 
face  of  the  priest  at  the  altar  would  be  seen  by  the  congregation  in 
the  nave. 

I  ought  to  have  observed,  in  speaking  of  some  examples  of  apses 
with  aisles,  that  even  in  these,  the  treatment  was  essentially  German. 
The  two  churches  at  Nuremberg  are  examples  which,  as  the  aisles 
are  of  the  same  height  as  the  choir,  and  the  whole  roofed  over  with 
one  immense  roof,  present  the  appearance  on  the  exterior  of  immense 
apses  without  aisles.  And  certainly  there  is  great  grandeur  of  effect 
in  such  a  termination,  though  less  structural  truth,  and  less  internal 
variety  and  beauty.  Still,  they  are  admirable  departures  from  or- 
dinary rules.  The  churches  at  Munster,  S.  Stephen  at  Vienna, 
Munich  cathedral,  Landshut,  and  the  Wiesen-Kirche  at  Soest,  are 
examples  of  the  same  kind  of  design.  They  have  a  very  fine  effect 
of  simple  unbroken  height,  but  the  absence  of  the  triforium  and 
clerestory  is  not  forgiven,  whilst  the  plan  helped  to  develop  that 
German  extravagance  of  proportion  in  the  length  of  the  window 
monials  which  we  so  often  have  to  deplore. 

And  here  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  of  the  cathedral  at  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  and  the  church  of  S.  Gereon,  at  Cologne,  in  which  the 
naves  are  circular  and  decagonal,  of  great  size  and  grand  effect, 
with  long  choirs  running  out  to  the  east. 

In  the  earlier  churches  western  transepts  are  also  not  uncommon, 
as  at  S.  Cunibert,  S.  Andrew,  and  S.  Pantaleon  at  Cologne,  S.  Paul 
at  Worms,  Mayence,  and  many  other  examples;  whilst  towers  of 
small  size  were  commonly  placed  in  the  re-entering  angles,  between 
the  nave,  and  choir,  and  transepts,  as  well  as  over  their  intersections. 

Lastly,  there  is  a  plan  of  common  occurrence,  especially  among 
smaller  churches,  in  which  the  main  building  is  a  large  and  lofty 
parallelogram,  with  a  small  apse  tacked  on  at  the  end,  without  any 
regard  to  proportion.  There  are  two  or  three  of  these  churches  in 
Nuremberg,  and  many  elsewhere. 

I  have  detained  you  for  a  long  time  on  the  subject  of  ground- 
plans,  but  it  is  one  of  importance  to  the  right  understanding  of 
any  style  of  church  architecture,  and  it  was  not  possible  therefore 
to  pass  it  over. 

I  will  now  ask  you  to  consider,  a  little  in  detail,  the  characteristics 
of  the  early  German  work.  I  do  not  intend  to  go  thoroughly  into 
the  question  of  pure  Romanesque  work,  for  which  I  have  no  time. 
I  am  dealing  with  p'ointed  architecture,  and  must  confine  myself 
as  much  as  possible  to  it  only.  We  may  take  the  early  churches  at 
Cologne,  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  as  examples  of  the  kind 
of  work  which  is  perhaps  the  most  interesting,  and  very  thoroughly 
German  in  all  its  characteristics.  It  was  derived,  as  I  have  no  doubt, 
from  the  churches  in  Lombardy,  with  which  it  has  very  many  fea- 

[_322^ 


tures  absolutely  identical.  The  churches  at  Pavia  are  beyond  all 
question  the  prototypes  of  those  at  Cologne;  but  it  is  to  be  observed 
that  their  scale  is  smaller,  and,  their  effect  certainly  not  so  fine. 

S.  Castor  at  Coblentz,  at  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  Ander- 
nach  a  little  later,  Zinzig,  S.  Gereon  and  S.  Cunibert,  Cologne,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  give  us  a  fairly  complete 
evidence  of  the  succession  of  styles.  After  these  we  have  Limburg 
and  Gelnhausen,  taking  us  on  to  the  time  at  which  the  German 
complete  Gothic  was  in  other  places  in  full  perfection. 

In  the  early  churches  there  are  many  features  worthy  of  remark:  — 

First,  the  curiously  early  development  of  a  kind  of  heavy  cusp- 
ing,  of  which  Worms,  Zinzig,  Boppart,  Andernach,  and  S.  Gereon 
at  Cologne,  are  good  examples.  It  is  essentially  German,  and  I 
know  nothing  like  it  out  of  the  Rhine  district. 

Secondly,  the  treatment  of  the  apsidal  terminations  is  very 
remarkable.  S.  Castor  at  Coblentz,  e.  g.,  at  the  end  of  the  twelfth 
century,  has  three  stages  in  its  apse,  whereof  that  next  the  ground 
has  a  trefoiled  arcade,  the  next  is  pierced  with  round-headed  windows, 
whilst  under  the  eaves  is  a  recessed  arcade  and  a  cornice,  which,  in 
one  form  or  other,  was  almost  the  invariable  finish  of  these  early 
apses.  Zinzig  has  the  same  kind  of  apse,  but  it  is  polygonal,  and 
each  side  is  gabled.  The  eaves-cornice  has  a  row  of  square  sunk 
panels  below  it;  and  this  singular  feature  we  see  reproduced  very 
often,  as  at  S.  Gereon.  The  apse  at  Andernach  is  nearly  identical 
with  that  at  Coblentz,  as  also  is  that  of  Bonn.  The  fine  cathedral 
at  Worms  has  a  very  singular  arrangement.  The  apse  is  polygonal, 
with  the  eaves-cornice  and  ground  arcade  as  at  Coblentz,  but  in 
the  intermediate  stage  it  has  circular  windows,  filled  in  with  quatre- 
foils  and  sexfoils.  The  apse  and  steeple  of  S.  Martin,  at  Cologne,  are 
extremely  noble  examples  of  these  portions  of  the  early  German 
churches.  Generally  speaking,  these  early  apsidal  terminations  are 
most  remarkable  for  their  similarity  of  design,  but  their  external 
effect  is,  nevertheless,  always  striking. 

The  third  and  chief  feature  of  the  early  German  churches  is  the 
treatment  of  their  steeples.  They  are  square  or  octangular  in  plan, 
without  buttresses,  arcaded  or  pierced  with  windows  pretty  regu- 
larly all  over  thei*;  surface,  and  roofed  in  the  most  varied  manner. 
You  are  all,  no  doubt,  familiar  with  some  examples  of  these  really 
striking  towers,  and  you  will  feel,  I  think,  that  in  their  whole  com- 
position they  generally  look  too  much  like  turrets,  and  are  often  too 
uniform  in  their  height  to  be  perfectly  satisfactory.  The  towers 
were  often  gabled,  and  had  square  spires  rising  from  the  points  of 
the  gables;  or,  as  in  the  fine  example  at  Soest,  they  had  octag- 
onal spires.  This  Soest  example  has  great  interest:  it  is  the  first 
perfect  example,  so  far  as  I  know,  of  a  long  series  of  very  remark- 

1323  2 


able  steeples.  At  Paderborn,  indeed,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
tower  had  a  spire;  but  it  is  destroyed,  and  Soest  is  therefore 
the  more  interesting.  At  a  later  date,  this  kind  of  steeple  was  re- 
produced at  Luneburg  and  Lubeck,  in  the  steeples  which  adorn  their 
churches. 

The  variety  of  ornamental  moulding  is  less,  I  think,  in  Germany 
than  in  either  England  or  France;  but  there  are  some  fine  examples 
of  carving  in  capitals  and  string-courses  of  early  date  at  Naumburg 
and  Magdeburg. 

The  groining  of  early  German  churches  is  generally  simple. 
The  lanterns,  where  central,  are  covered  in  with  a  plain  kind  of 
domical  vault;  and  the  apses  have  generally  hemispherical  groin- 
ing, sometimes  marked  with  ribs.  The  vaulting  is  first  of  all  plain 
waggon-vaulting,  then  simple  quadripartite,  and  sometimes  — es- 
pecially where  (as  is  often  the  case  in  Germany)  one  bay  of  the  groin- 
ing covers  two  bays  of  the  nave  —  it  is  sexpartite,  and  generally 
then  very  much  raised  in  the  centre. 

Doorways  are  almost  invariably  square-headed,  under  pointed 
arches.  In  the  north  porch  of  Lubeck  cathedral,  as  also  at  Ander- 
nach,  and  at  S.  Cunibert,  and  again  at  S.  Gereon,  Cologne,  is  a  very 
peculiar  doorhead,  formed  by  two  straight  lines  sloping  to  the 
centre  at  a  very  obtuse  angle. 

The  windows  are  generally  of  a  very  simple  and  rude  kind. 
There  was  no  approach  in  their  treatment  to  that  delicacy  which  is 
such  an  especial  characteristic  of  our  English  first-pointed;  and 
this  mainly  because  the  science  of  mouldings  was  never  worked  out 
thoroughly  by  the  early  German  school.  It  is  true  that  no  school 
of  architects  has  ever  rivalled  the  English  in  this  particular;  and 
one  reason,  perhaps,  for  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  resolute  way  in 
which  foreigners  resisted  any  modification  of  the  square  abacus, 
whose  only  fault  was,  no  doubt,  the  limitation  it  imposed  upon  the 
outline  of  mouldings. 

One  other  feature  of  these  churches  must  not  be  forgotten,  viz., 
the  great  size  of  their  triforia.  This  was  usual  all  over  Europe  in 
Romanesque  buildings;  but  in  Germany  in  this,  as  in  other  things, 
the  early  tradition  was  long  adhered  to,  and  you  have  nowhere 
else  such  elaborate  constructional  galleries  as  theirs.  Even  in  works 
of  the  latest  date  they  are  found,  —  as,  for  instance,  in  the  curious 
church  of  S.  Andrew,  at  Frankfort,  where  the  outer  aisles  are  gal- 
leried  all  round  with  a  triforium,  the  arches  in  front  of  which  are 
about  twice  the  height  of  the  main  arches  below  them.  The  interior 
of  Andernach  cathedral  will  explain  how  grand  the  treatment  of 
this  feature  was  in  the  earliest  buildings. 

I  trust  I  have  said  enough  now  to  show  you,  at  any  rate,  the 
general  characteristics  of  early  German  work.    Its  great  marks  of 

C  324  ] 


distinction  from  French  and  English  work  are  to  be  seen  mainly  in 
its  planning,  the  treatment  and  number  of  its  towers  and  spires, 
and  in  the  peculiarly  Italian  character  of  its  apsidal  terminations; 
and,  as  I  have  said,  this  style  prevailed,  with  but  little  modification, 
up  to  the  very  time  at  which  the  completely  developed  German 
middle-pointed  made  its  appearance. 

I  suppose  the  characteristics  of  this  later  work  must  be  known  to 
most  of  you.  Cologne  cathedral  is  in  fact  so  competely  an  embodi- 
ment of  nearly  all  the  essential  features  of  the  style,  and  is  so  well 
known  to  most  people  that  I  suspect  less  description  is  required  of 
it  than  of  any  other  foreign  style.  It  has  been  often  said — and 
that  by  no  mean  authorities  —  that  the  German  middle-pointed 
was  identical  with  our  own,  and  indeed  that  this  one  style  prevailed 
for  a  time  all  over  Europe.  The  theory  would  be  pretty  if  it  were 
true:  the  gradual  working  up  to  the  same  point  in  various  ways, 
and  the  gradual  divergence  of  art  again  in  different  directions,  would 
certainly  be  a  strong  ground  for  giving  in  our  adhesion  to  this  one 
perfect  and  universal  style.  But  I  confess  that  though  there  is  some- 
thing of  a  similarity,  I  have  not  been  able  to  trace  anything  like 
an  identity  between  German  and  French  and  English  work  at  any 
time.  I  am  thankful  for  this  because,  with  all  its  beauty,  the  best 
German  middle-pointed  style  is  not  a  great  style,  and  has  many 
and  obvious  defects.  From  the  very  first  is  conspicuous  that  love 
of  lines  which  is  so  marked  and  so  unpleasant  a  peculiarity  in  Ger- 
man art,  and  that  desire  to  play  with  geometrical  figures  —  I  know 
not  how  else  to  express  what  I  mean  —  which  in  time  degenerated 
into  work  as  pitiful  and  contemptible  as  any  of  which  mediaeval 
architects  were  ever  guilty. 

I  have  here  a  large  collection  (which  should  have  been  larger 
had  I  had  time  to  select  all  the  examples  which  I  have  scattered 
through  my  sketch-books)  of  German  window  traceries,  which  will 
enable  you  to  judge  whether  I  am  too  severe  in  my  opinion  of  their 
demerits.  And  you  may  observe,  by  the  way,  that  whilst  in  the 
earlier  styles  we  have  very  many  points  for  consideration  in  study- 
ing the  characteristics  of  the  style,  in  this  work  there  is  a  sacrifice 
of  almost  everything  else  to  the  desire  to  introduce  in  every  direc- 
tion specimens  of  new  and  ingenious  combinations  of  tracery.  The 
windows  at  Paderborn  are  some  of  the  finest  and  purest  examples 
of  early  tracery.  They  are  genuine  and  noble  examples,  and  quite 
free  from  any  tinge  of  the  faults  of  later  examples,  and  worthy  of 
comparison  with  the  best  of  our  own  early  traceries.  The  mould- 
ings of  these  windows  are  simple,  but  composed  mainly  of  a  suc- 
cession of  bold  rolls,  and  so  entirely  free  from  any  lininess.  In  the 
cupola  of  S.  Gereon  at  Cologne,  and  a  little  later  in  its  sacristy  are 
also  some  good  early  traceries,  whilst  most  of  the  windows  at  Mar- 
[  325  ] 


burg  are  also  examples  of  the  same  character.  So  too  are  the  tra- 
ceries in  one  of  the  Brunswick  west  fronts,  and  in  the  apse  of  the 
church  of  S.  Giles  in  the  same  city.  From  these  look  to  the  windows 
of  S.  Mary,  Lemgo,  and  you  have  the  commencement  of  the  new 
style,  though  these  are  fine  windows,  boldly  and  simply  conceived 
and  carried  out.  Next  to  these  come  the  marvellous  series  of  tra- 
ceries in  Minden  cathedral;  a  series,  I  suppose,  quite  unmatched  for 
variety,  and  indeed,  I  must  own,  for  a  certain  grandeur  of  effect, 
by  those  in  any  church  in  Europe.  You  will  be  struck,  I  think,  by 
the  curious  desire  for  variety  of  arrangement  which  these  traceries 
evidence.  They  are  a  series  of  aisle  windows,  placed  side  by  side  in 
a  cathedral  church  of  very  modest  pretensions.  S.  Martin  in  the 
same  town  has  a  great  variety  of  traceries  of  a  later  type  —  good 
examples  of  the  kind  of  tracery  which  henceforward  is  to  be  found 
for  a  long  time  predominant  throughout  nearly  the  whole  of  Ger- 
many, in  which,  whilst  one  admires  and  wonders  at  the  ingenuity 
which  has  devised  so  many  combinations  of  spherical  triangles  and 
circles,  one  is  tempted  to  think  that  the  men  who  excelled  in  this 
sort  of  work  would  have  been  admirably  fitted  for  designing  chil- 
dren's toys  and  puzzles,  but  had  much  better  have  been  kept  away 
from  church  windows.  Among  the  other  sketches  of  traceries,  those 
from  Ratisbon  are  of  the  best  kind,  whilst  those  from  the  cloister 
at  Constance  (essentially  German  work)  are  almost  as  interesting 
as  the  Paderborn  examples  in  their  ingenious  variety  of  form. 
They  show  too,  occasionally,  a  tendency  to  ogee  lines  in  the  tracery, 
which  leads  me  to  say  a  few  words  on  the  curious  fact,  that  whereas 
in  England  the  ogee  line  was  always  seen  in  the  later  middle-pointed 
work,  this  was  by  no  means  the  case  in  Germany.  The  tracery  in 
the  staircase  to  the  Rathhaus  at  Ratisbon,  though  of  late  date,  is 
noticeable  for  the  almost  entire  absence  of  any  but  pure  geometri- 
cal figures,  but  then  these  are  thrown  about  in  a  confused  and  irreg- 
ular manner,  and  are  entirely  wanting  in  due  subordination  of  parts. 
When,  however,  the  ogee  line  does  show  itself  in  German  work,  it 
is  always  a  certain  evidence  of  debasement. 

But  to  leave  the  question  of  traceries  and  to  justify  my  denial 
of  the  virtues  of  German  pointed  architecture,  let  me  ask  you  to 
compare  the  effect  of  French  and  German  work  side  by  side  in  some 
of  these  most  valuable  evidences  of  facts  which  photography  so  lib- 
erally affords  us.  You  have  here  side  by  side  a  west  door  from  Amiens 
and  from  Cologne;  and  again  here,  some  door-jamb  sculpture  from 
Amiens  between  similar  works  from  Strasburg.  Now  striking  as  these 
German  examples  are,  do  you  not  see  how  entirely  the  Germans 
sacrifice  all  nobility  and  simplicity  of  expression,  all  that  we  call 
repose,  to  the  vain  desire  to  arrest  attention  by  some  tricky  arrange- 
ment of  a  drapery  and  some  quaint  speckiness  or  lininess  of  detail  ? 

[326] 


The  German  love  of  tracery  is  evidenced  by  the  fondness  for 
such  spires  as  that  of  Freiburg,  which,  striking  as  it  is,  is  not  alto- 
gether a  legitimate  kind  of  thing,  and  is  certainly  inferior  in  its 
effect  to  the  much  simpler  spires  of  which  we  are  so  justly  proud. 

I  can  only  say  a  few  words  as  to  the  plans  of  German  complete 
Gothic,  and  this  only  to  repeat  what  I  have  before  said  as  to  the  ex- 
tent to  which  they  contrived  to  build  on  the  same  plans  as  in 
earlier  days.  The  parallel  and  transverse  triapsidal  plans  were  as 
popular  in  Germany  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  as 
they  were  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth,  of  which  the  little  chapel 
in  the  castle  at  Marburg  is  a  curious  example.  It  is  apsidal  at  the 
east  and  west  ends,  and  the  bay  between  has  the  window-splay  so 
contrived  as  to  make  another  apse  north  and  south.  It  was  in  detail 
more  than  in  plan  that  the  later  architects  developed. 

But  I  feel  that  time  will  not  allow  me  to  go  into  the  features  of 
the  style  with  more  minuteness,  or  to  do  more  than  direct  your 
attention  to  the  strange  eccentricity  which  characterizes  the  last 
phase  of  German  Gothic,  of  which  the  design  for  the  spire  of  Ulm 
(never  carried  out)  is  one  of  the  most  curious  examples.  In  the  short 
time  that  still  remains  to  me,  I  would  rather  prefer  to  call  your  at- 
tention to  the  local  peculiarities  which  you  will  meet  with  in  differ- 
ent districts  of  this  great  country  —  a  part  of  my  subject  which 
would,  if  I  had  time  for  it,  be  of  more  value  perhaps  to  those  who 
are  going  to  explore  German  churches  for  themselves  than  any 
other. 

I  have  said  so  much  about  the  churches  of  Cologne  and  the 
Rhine,  that  I  need  say  no  more  than  that  they  are  very  much  a 
class  by  themselves.  You  have  there  the  best  specimens  of  early 
churches;  whilst  in  Cologne  cathedral,  in  Altenberg  abbey,  in  the 
church  of  the  Minorites  at  Cologne— an  admirable  example— in 
the  very  interesting  church  at  Oberwesel,  and  in  S.  Werner  at  Bach- 
arach,  a  church  at  Andernach,  and  Frankfort  cathedral,  you  have 
a  series  of  examples  within  a  short  distance  of  each  other  of  the  best 
complete  German  Gothic. 

Then  leaving  this  district  and  going  in  a  north-easterly  direc- 
tion, you  will  find  a  series  of  towns  full  of  local  peculiarities,  quite 
unlike  those  of  the  Rhine:  —  Miinster,  for  instance,  with  its  churches 
of  great  height  and  without  distinction  between  nave  and  aisles; 
or  Soest,  where  the  beautiful  Wiesen-kirche  affords  one  of  the  finest 
evidences  of  what  Germans  could  do  in  their  palmiest  days:  whilst 
in  the  other  churches  in  the  same  little  known  city  you  would  see 
examples  of  Romanesque  of  the  most  grand  kind  in  the  remarkable 
steeple  of  the  cathedral,  and  of  a  very  curious  kind  in  the  low 
groined  entrances  which  support  a  continuation  of  the  triforia  round 
the  west  end  of  the  naves.  In  towns  like  these,  and  Paderborn, 
[327] 


Lemgo,  Herford,  Minden,  and  Hildesheim,  you  will  find  a  rich  store 
of  architectural  matter;  and  then  if  you  will  venture  so  far,  you  will 
find  at  Lijneburg,  and  Lubeck,  and  Ratzeburg,  abundant  examples 
(as  I  have  once  before  explained  in  this  room)  of  the  German  mode 
of  building  in  brick  developed  in  a  group  of  churches  quite  unlike 
any  others  in  Germany,  and  most  interesting  in  every  point  of  view. 
Then  again  there  are  those  curious  churches  at  Brunswick  and 
Halberstadt,  Magdeburg  and  Burg,  whose  west  fronts,  contrived 
apparently  solely  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  space  for  the  display  of 
immense  window  traceries,  are  so  completely  local  and  so  thoroughly, 
I  suppose  I  may  say,  an  invention!  Here  too  you  will  see  the 
churches  almost  invariably  with  gabled  aisles,  —sometimes,  as  in 
the  cathedral  at  Lemgo,  so  gabled  at  the  sides  that  one  doubts  which 
is  the  side  and  which  the  end,  and  sometimes,  as  in  a  church  at 
Brunswick,  filled  with  tracery  and  panelling  of  extreme  beauty. 
Then  again  at  Halberstadt,  Erfurt,  Naumburg,  and  Marburg,  you 
may  see  some  of  the  most  excellent  work  in  all  Germany  of  the  best 
period.  And  if  you  go  further  south,  to  where  Nuremberg  takes 
you  back  in  almost  all  externals  to  the  sixteenth  century,  or  where 
Ratisbon  to  the  thirteenth,  you  will  find  yourselves  again  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  brick  churches,  at  Landshut  and  Munich:  and 
lastly  at  Freiburg  you  may  see  one  of  the  very  best  of  German 
churches,  eclipsed  though  it  undoubtedly  is  by  the  unequalled  (in 
Germany)  nave  of  the  thoroughly  German  cathedral  of  Strasburg. 
I  can  but  give  you  a  hurried  list  of  names,  but  not  without  a 
warm  recommendation  to  you  to  go  and  see  for  yourselves  how  very 
much  is  to  be  learnt  in  all  these  churches,  not  only  in  architectural 
matters,  but  even  much  more  in  ecclesiological.  Germany  is  the 
one  part  of  Europe  in  which  the  furniture  of  the  Middle  Ages  still 
remains.  There  where  in  Protestant  Nuremberg  every  altar  still 
stands  with  its  white  cloth,  and  candles,  and  crucifix;  where  the  great 
rood  still  hangs  aloft  in  the  churches;  where  in  one  church,  as  at 
Brandenburg,  one  may  see  some  thirty  or  forty  mediaeval  vestments 
still  hanging  untouched  in  their  old  presses;  where  you  may  see 
screens  of  every  date,  from  early  Romanesque  to  the  latest  pointed; 
where  coronae,  and  all  kinds  of  metal  furniture  and  ancient  work 
of  a  date  far  earlier  than  any  other  country  in  Europe  can 
show  are  still  preserved;  where,  as  in  the  choirs  of  Halberstadt  and 
Hildesheim,  the  old  illuminated  office  books  still  rest  upon  the  old 
choir  desk;  where  hangings  of  quaint  and  gorgeous  patterns  still 
hang  round  the  choirs,  and  where  triptychs  and  carved  retables  are 
so  common  that  one  forgets  to  take  note  of  them ;  —  there  it  is,  I 
say,  that  you  must  go  if  you  would  wish  to  study  and  to  understand 
fully  the  ecclesiology  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  is  indeed  a  country 
full  of  the  most  wonderful  interest  to  the  ecclesiologist  in  all  ways, 

[  328  ] 


and  I  am  anxious  to  say  that  though  I  have  been  asked  by  your 
committee  to  give  a  second  paper  on  Italian  architecture,  I  feel 
very  strongly  that  I  should  be  doing  their  work  much  better  by  tell- 
ing you  somewhat  of  all  those  things  to  which  I  have  just  referred. 
In  the  first  place,  I  have  said  my  say  on  Italy,  and  have  nothing  new 
to  tell  you;  and  secondly,  I  have  been  obliged  to  avoid  saying  one 
word  either  on  the  furniture  or  glass  of  German  churches,  or  on  the 
domestic  architecture  in  which  the  country  is  so  rich,  —  and  on  all 
these  points  I  should  be  only  too  glad  at  some  future  day  to  give 
you  some  notes  of  what  I  have  seen. 


[329] 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abbeville,  33. 

Abbot  Odalric  of  Conques,  242. 

Abbot  Peter  de  Wesencourt  of 

S.  Germer,  156. 
Ah^Udaire,  155,  158,  220. 
acanthus,  95. 

Aesthetic  Movement,  13,  32. 
Agnolino  of  Orvieto,  94. 
Ainay,  church  of,  35,  39,  207, 

228,  247;  V.  Lyon. 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  302,  307,  322. 
Album       Photo  graphique       de 

VArcMologie    RSligeuse,    215, 

223,  224. 
Alcala,  43. 
Alengon,  33. 
All  Saints,  Clifton,  30. 
Alps,  36,  49,  65,  89. 
Altamira,  Rafael,  48. 
Altenberg,  321,  327. 
Amalfi,  51,  53. 
American  attitude,  32,  33. 
Amiens.  16,  32,  33, 129, 131, 151, 

158,  163,  195,  206,  318,  321, 

326. 
Ancona,  50. 
Andalusia,  42. 

Andernach,  175,  323,  324,  327. 
Angelico,  Fra,  8,  9,  52. 
Angers,  134. 
Angevine  type,  45,  128. 
Angouleme,  231,  236. 
Anjou.  128.  129. 
Antiquite  ExpliqiUe,  L\  223 
Apengeter,  Hans,  of  Lubeck,277. 
Apennines,  76,  82,  86. 
apsidal  choirs,  19,  89,  137,  176, 

320,  325. 


Aragon,  kings  of,  42. 

Arbellot,  Abbe,  cited,  211. 

Archaeologia  Cantiana,  255. 

Archbishop  Maurice  of  Rouen, 
133,  135. 

architect,  the  same,  at  Ainay 
and  Le  Puy,  207  sqq.;  Bayeux 
and  Norrey,  123;  Chalons- 
sur-Marne  and  Rouen.  193 ; 
Orcival  and  Issoire  and  Bri- 
oude,  240;  Rouen  and  Genoa, 
133;  S.  Germer  and  Paris, 
156 ;  S.  Mary  Stone,  and 
Westminster,  255,  264,  267; 
Soissons  and  Noyon,  165. 

architects,  mediaeval.  23,  32.  73, 
131,  136.  149,  151,  293,  296, 
297. 

architects,  modern,  21,  26,  28, 
40,  41,  54,  57.  100,  294, 
303. 

architecture,  the  experience,  28, 
29;  growth  slow,  318;  regular, 
40 ;  height  first  requisite,  18, 
142;  mouldings  the  test,  99; 
sculpture,  99,  264. 

Architecture  Civile  ei  Domestique, 
161,  184. 

Arezzo,  76,  80. 

Aries,  128. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  8,  49. 

Arts  Somptuaires,  Les,  153. 

Arundel  church,  158,  265. 

Assisi,  51,  76,  77  sqq.,  224. 

Asti,  51,  65. 

Astorga,  44. 

Asturias,  42. 

Athens,  249. 


[333] 


Auvergne,  dates,  241 ;  type,  39, 
201,  211,  231  sqq.,  238,  244. 

Auvergne  au  Moyen  Age,  L\ 
205,  232. 

Auxerre,  34,  35,  249. 

Avranche,  124. 

Avila,  44,  45,  46. 

Aymard,  M.,  cited,  215,  223. 
224,  225,  226,  230. 

Bacharach,  320,  327. 
Baedecker,  37. 
Bamberg,  175,  318,  321. 
baptistery,  210, 272;  at  Cremona, 

272;    Pisa,  66,  272;    Pistoja, 

84;  Siena,  72. 
Barcelona,  38,  43,  44. 
Bardonnecchia,  90. 
Barnstaple,  4. 
Basle,  277. 

Bayeux,  43,  122,  163. 
Bayonne,  43,  44. 
Beauvais,  cathedral,  16,  17,  33, 

131, 144, 150  sqq.;  S.  Etienne, 

152  sq. ;  bishop's  palace,  153 ; 

Bishop  F.  de  la  Rochefoucauld, 

152. 
Belgian  towns,  34,  48,  303-307. 
Bell  Scott,  William,  57. 
Benavente,  40,  44. 
Benevent,  231. 
Benevento,  50. 
Bergamo,  309,  317. 
Berlin,  48,  290. 
Bernese  Oberland,  39,  48. 
Bertaux,  femile,  51. 
Bideford,  4. 
Bingen,  John  and  Nicholas  of, 

222. 
Biscay,  Bay  of,  42. 
Biscovey,  6. 
Bishop   Arnaud   of    Perigueux, 

211. 
Bishop  Burchard  von  Serken  of 

Lubeck,  273. 


Bishop  Evodius  of  Le  Puy,  203. 

Bishop  F.  de  la  Rochefoucauld 
of  Beauvais,  152. 

Bishop  Gamier  of  Laon,  181. 

Bishop  Gerald  of  Poitiers,  211. 

Bishop  Gerold  of  Oldenburg, 
272. 

Bishop  Guy  1 1  of  Le  Puy,  228. 

Bishop  Henry  of  Lubeck,  272. 

Bishop  Henry  Bockholt  of  Lu- 
beck, 278. 

Bishop  Hughes  de  la  Tour  of 
Clermont,  231. 

Bishop  Jean  de  Bourbon  of  Le 
Puy,  214,  215. 

Bishop  Johan  von  Mull  of  Lu- 
beck, 273. 

Bishop  Namacius  of  Clermont, 
232. 

Bishop  Peter  of  Le  Puy,  220. 

Bishop  Stephen  II  of  Le  Puy, 
220. 

Bishop  Theodulf  of  Orleans,  224. 

Bishop  of  Beauvais,  161. 

Bishop  of  Gibraltar,  96. 

Bishop  of  Oxford,  7,  23. 

Boletin  de  la  Sociedad  Castellana 
de  Excur stones,  47. 

Bologna,  86;  S.  Petronio,  86  sq., 
230;  S.  Francesco,  87. 

Bonn,  320,  323. 

Bonport,  138. 

Boppart,  323. 

Botticelli,  29. 

Bourges,  cathedral,  137, 163, 176, 
201,  212,  244;   S.  Pierre,  244. 

Bourgtheroulde,  118. 

Boyce,  George,  57. 

Branche,  Dominique,  cited,  205, 
232. 

Brandenburg,  285,  328. 

brasses,  6,  38,  274. 

Brenner,  51. 

'Bretteville  I'Orgueilleuse,  120. 

Breuzeville,  131. 


[334] 


brick  building,  30,  37,  38,  46, 72, 

86,  270,  284,  285,  286,  328. 
Brick  and  Marble  in  the  Middle 

Ages,  21,  27,  32,  34,  36,  46,  49 

sq.,  88. 
Brioude,  39,  201,  212,  215,  231, 

234,  235,  237,  238,  240,  247. 
Bristol  cathedral,  27,  30. 
Brown,  Madox,  57. 
Browning,  Robert,  2,  52. 
Brunswick,  274,  283,  321,  326, 

328. 
Buckinghamshire,  25. 
Bulletin  Archeologique,  223. 
Bulletin  de  la   SociSte   ArcMo- 

logique  et  Historique  du   Li- 
mousin, 211. 
Bulletin  Monumental,  207,  220, 

230. 
Burg,  327. 
Burgos,  43,  44,  118. 
Burgundian  March,  34;    style, 

128. 
Burne-Jones,    Edward,    13-18, 

33,  57. 
Burne-Jones,  Lady,  14,  17. 
Butler,  Dr.,  7. 
Butterfield.  15,  28. 
Byzantine   influences,   84,   132, 

135,  194,  202,  243,  245. 

Caen,  33,  119  sqq.;  Abbaye 
aux  Hommes,  246;  S.  Pierre, 
119,  120,  121. 

Calvados,  16. 

Cambridgeshire,  5. 

campanile  at  Assisi,  80 ;  Bo- 
logna, 87 ;  Erfurt,  294;  Flo- 
rence, 82;  Lucca,  70;  Pistoja, 
83;  Siena,  72;  Siena  cathedral, 
73;  Susa,  64;  Verona,  72. 

Carlisle.  54,  55. 

carvers,  132, 135, 168,  300-01. 

carvings,  186, 199,  303,  313,  317. 

Castile,  42. 


Castilian,  47. 

Catalonia,  30,  45,  47. 

Caudebec,  16. 

Caumont,  de,  cited,  Abecedaire, 
155, 158,  220;  Bulletin  Monu- 
mental, 207. 

Cavallini,  78. 

Chaise-Dieu,  La,  251. 

Chaions-sur-Marne,Notre  Dame, 
134, 175,  188,  190;  cathedral, 
190,  194;  S.  Alpin,  195;  the 
cure,  144, 191. 

Chalvour,  171. 

Chamallieres,  220. 

Chambery,  50,  63,  89. 

Champagne,  style,  188. 

Champagne,  village  on  the  Oise, 
144-5. 

Champenois,  M.,  191. 

Chantilly,  100,  149. 

Chartres,  cathedral,  16,  19,  29, 
33,  52,  114,  129,  130,  134,  163, 
176,  185,  195,  212.  244. 

Les  Chases,  S.  Marie,  205,  227. 

Chauriat,  231. 

Chichester,  5,  281. 

Chinon,  220. 

Christian  Year,  The,  20,  31. 

Church  of  England,  1,  11,  21. 

Church  of  Rome,  11,  21. 

Churches  in  Kent,  Surrey,  and 
Sussex,  Some,  268. 

Churches  in  Northern  Germany, 
270. 

Churches  of  Lubeck,  The,  270. 

Churches  of  Velay,  The,  39,  201. 

Cimabue,  78,  79. 

Cino  da  Pistoja,  83. 

Clermont-Ferrand,  39,  128,  201; 
cathedral.  231.  251;  Notre- 
Dame-du-Port.  212.  217,  231, 
233-242  passim,  245,  249; 
Bishop  Hughes  de  la  Tour, 
231;  Bishop  Namacius,  232. 

Clifford,  W.  K.,  49. 


[335] 


Clovelly,  5. 

Cluny,  45,  231. 

Coblentz,  175,  323. 

Cock,  Reimar,  278. 

Cologne,  34,  151,  308,  sqq.,  319, 
Z22,  327;  cathedral,  173,  197 
sqq.,  316,  321,  326,  327;  SS. 
Apostles,  320;  S.  Cunibert,  309, 
311,  318,  323;  S.  Gereon,  308, 
318  sq.,  323,  324,  325;  S.  Mar- 
tin, 309,  Z2Z\  S.  Mary  in  the 
Capitol,  309;  others,  322. 

Como,  lake  of,  36. 

Compiegne,  159;  S.  Antoine,  160; 
cloister,  159;  Hotel-Dieu,  161; 
Hotel  de  Ville,  161. 

Compostela,  Santiago  de,  43, 
44,  45. 

Compton,  near  Guildford,  278. 

Conques,  231,  242,  245;  Abbot 
Odalric,  242. 

Constance,  33,  294,  326;  lake 
of,  36. 

Constantinople,  30,  Crimean  Me- 
morial, 22;  S.Sophia,  243, 245; 
SS.  Sergius  and  Bacchus,  247. 

Corneto,  94. 

Cornwall,  6,  79, 128,  268. 

Cortona,  75. 

Corufia,  La,  44. 

Coucy-le-Chateau,  162,  171. 

de  Coucy,  Robert,  58, 184, 188. 

Coudray,  158. 

Courtrai,  303,  305  sqq. 

Coutances,  124,  163. 

Cram,  R.  A.,  cited,  28. 

Cremona,  38,  272,  284. 

Crepy,  107. 

Crimean  Memorial,  22,  30. 

Cuddesden,  7,  21,  22. 

Cuenca,  42. 

Culoz,  62,  89. 


Dante,  3,  83. 

Devonshire,  128. 

Dictionnaire  de  V Architecture, 
174,  212,  231. 

Didron,  cited,  229,  233. 

Dijon,  34,  88,  277. 

Divine  Comedy,  3. 

domestic  architecture,  105,  106, 
107,  110,  119,  124,  138,  158, 
17Q,  183;  Romanesque,  124, 
153,  228;  Gothic,  92,  96,  139, 
153,  167,  170,  181,  186,  190, 
230;  north  German,  281,  283, 
294,  308,  310;  v.  also  Gothic, 
domestic. 

Donatello,  52,  87. 

Dorat,  231. 

Douce,  Francis,  cited,  277. 

Dresden,  48. 

Dublin,  27. 

Duguesclin,  230. 

Durham,  5. 


Dalmatia,  32. 
Dance  of  Death,  277. 


East  Grinstead,  22. 

East  Meon,  160. 

Eastern  influence,  212,  220,  223, 

243,    247;    course   along  the 

Rhone,  247;  v.  also  Byzantine. 
Ecclesiologist,   The,  32,   37,  38, 

127,  268. 
Edinburgh,  54. 
Egypt.  58. 

Elizabeth  of  Hungary,  S..  295. 
embroidery  and  vestments,    6, 

8,  152,  220,  280,  306,  328-9. 
Emperor  of  the  French  restoring, 

143,  145. 
Empoli,  91. 
Engadine,  48. 
England,  3, 10,  32,  42,  55. 
English,  1,  10,  11,  21,  32,  45,  54; 

influence,  128, 130, 136;  stone, 

30;  work,  122. 
Enlart,  Camille,  41. 
Ennezat,  230,  238. 

[336] 


entasis  at  Pisa,  67 ;  at  Le  Puy ,  213. 

Erfurt,  292,  328;  architects,  293; 
Barfusser-Kirche,  292;  cathe- 
dral, 293;  Prediger-Kirche, 
294;  Stadt-Kirche,  292;  S. 
Severus,  294;  others,  295. 

Erfurt  and  Marburg,  292. 

de  la  Escosura,  Patricio,  46. 

Espana  ArtisHca  y  Monumental, 
46. 

Essaisurles  Eglises  Romanes  et 
Romano-Byiantines  du  dSparte- 
ment  du  Puy-de-Dome,  241. 

Estoire  de  S.  Eduard  le  Rey,  204. 

Estella,  206. 

Estremadura,  42. 

fitampes,  244. 

Eunate,  229. 

Evreux,  cathedral,  116;  S. 
Taurin,  116. 

Exeter,  4,  12. 

Fergusson,  J.,  cited,  245. 

Fiesole,  82. 

Florence,   51,   52,  82,  83,  276; 

Or   S.  Michele,    52,    83;    S. 

Miniato,  84. 
Foggia,  50. 
Fontevrault,  231. 
Fonthill,  151. 
fonts,  84,  161, 274,  276,  277,  281, 

310. 
Ford,  Richard,  41. 
fortified  churches,  215. 
Fountains  Abbey,  32,  279. 
France,  3,  30;    landscape  and 

architecture,  88;  Spain's  debt 

to,   47;   Italy's,    51;   v.   also 

Gothic,  French,  and  painting, 

early  French. 
Francia,  52. 
Francis  of  Assisi,  S.,  76. 
Franco-Prussian  war,  21, 48, 120. 
Frankfort,  Z3,  324,  327. 
Freiburg,  33,  328. 


French  towns,  33,  34,  39,  131; 

cathedrals,  163. 
Furka  pass,  36. 

Galicia,  40,  42. 

Gassiecourt,  142. 

Gaulfredus,  220. 

Gelnhausen,  318,  323. 

Geneva,  89. 

Genoa,  65,  67,  76,  90,  91, 133  sq„ 
200,  220;  English  church,  30, 
90. 

German  Gothic,  174,  175,  190, 
192,  196,  199,  200,  283,  326; 
influence,  128,  174,  182,  192, 
sqq.,  195, 196;  v.  also  Gothic, 
German;  Painting,  early  Ger- 
man. 

German  Pointed  Architecture,  317. 

Germer,  S.,  legend,  158. 

Gerona,  43. 

Gimbert,  Francois,  225. 

Giotto,  52,  78,  83,  274. 

Giulianuova,  51. 

glass,  early,  79,  94,  101,  109, 
116,  139,  142,  152,  180,  195, 
196,  251,  276,  291,  293,  294, 
298,  300,  309,  314,  315,  329. 

Glastonbury,  154. 

Gloucester,  55. 

Gothic,  46,  176;  revival  of,  1, 
13,  28,  31,  248;  study  of,  6, 
37,  244;  lectures  on,  27,  201, 
317;  power  of,  3,  4,  23.  5^ 
modern,  8,  13,  22,  54,  55. 

Gothic,  domestic,  139,  183,  283, 
303;  at  Aix,  308;  at  Beauvais, 
153;  in  Belgium,  303  sqq.;  at 
Erfurt,  294;  at  Genoa,  91;  at 
Laon,  112;  at  Lisieux,  119;  at 
Meaux,  115;  at  Monf errand, 
251;  at  MiJnster,  310;  at 
Pisa,  68;  at  Le  Puy,  230;  at 
Rheims,  190;  at  Siena,  68,  72; 
at  Trdves,  197;  at  Ypres,  305. 


[337] 


Gothic,  English,  3,  21,  130,  131, 
160,  255,  320,  324;  styles,  45, 
128;  comparison  with,  122, 
128,  129,  159,  165. 

Gothic,  French,  18,  21, 30, 32, 45, 
47,  51,  79,  127,  176,  192,  244; 
styles,  39,  40,  128,  167,  231 
sqq.;  sources,  202,  244;  in 
Italy,  77-8. 

Gothic,  German,  32,  174,  190, 
195  sq.,  200,  270  sqq.,  289, 
292,  304,  317,  319,  323;  in- 
fluence of,  128,  174,  175,  182, 
194,  195;  judgement  on,  196, 
199,  200,  317,  319. 

Gothic,  Italian.  30,  32,  51,  66,  70, 
72,  78,  91,  207,  309,  320;  in- 
fluence of,  131,  133,  175; 
characteristic  plan,  207,  309; 
Lombard,  32,  275,  322. 

Gothic,  Savoyard,  63,  65. 

Gothic,  Spanish,  32,  37,  39,  40, 
43,  46  sqq.,  320;  in  Catalonia, 
38,  45. 

Government  restoring,  143,  145, 
312,  316. 

Granson,  on  Lake  of  Neuf- 
chatel,  245. 

Grauenfels,  36. 

Greece,  32. 

Gregorian  music,  18,  119. 

Gregory  of  Tours,  cited,  232. 

Grisons,  the,  36. 

groining,  74, 130,  222. 

ground-plans,  130, 136, 195,  205, 
207,  229,  230,  244,  309,  317, 
319,  327. 

Guadalajara,  44. 

Guardian,  The,  129. 

Guercino,  52. 

Guido  da  Como,  84. 

Halberstadt,  278,  288,  301,  328. 
Hamburg,  33. 
Hambye,  124. 


Hanover,  48. 

Havre,  16. 

Heidelberg,  33, 

height  an  element  of  Gothic,  18, 

142,  150,  197. 
Heir  of  Redely ffe.  The,  13. 
Henry  the  Lion,  272. 
Herford,  328. 
Hesse,  Synsingus,  283. 
Hewlett,  Maurice,  45,  83. 
Higham  Ferrers,  281. 
Hildesheim,  274,  278,  321,  328. 
Histoire  de  l'£glise  Angelique  de 

Notre  Dame  du  Puy,  228. 
Historia  de  la  Arquitectura  Es- 

panola  Cristiana,  41. 
Holland,    Jessie,    (Mrs.    G.    E. 

Street),  10,  53,  57,  88. 
Holmbury  S.  Mary,  28,  30,  55. 
Homer,  3. 

Howells,  William  Dean,  49. 
Hucher,  M.,  cited,  220. 
Hueffer,  Ford  Madox,  57. 
Huelgas,  Las,  45,  118. 
Huesca,  44. 
Hunt,  Holman,  46,  57. 
Hutton,  Edward,  45,  49. 
Huxley,  Thomas,  23. 
Huy,  307. 

Ififley,  32. 

!le-de- France,  45,  128,  194,  317. 

Iliad,  3. 

Inchbold,  J.  W.,  57. 

Inland  Voyage,  An,  39. 

risle  Adam,  144. 

Issoire,  201,  217,  231,  233,  235, 

236,  237,  238,  240. 
Italian  influence,  131,  133,  175, 

230;  arcades,  310;  gables,  273; 

workman,  276. 
Italy,  22,  34, 38, 48, 49, 50, 51, 65, 

80,  89, 176. 

Jaca,  42. 

Jean  and  Nicholas  of  Bingen,  222. 


[338] 


Jervaulx,  5. 
Joanna  the  Mad,  46. 

Keats,  John,  2. 
Keble,  John,  13,  31. 
Kent,  255,  260,  268. 
Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  281. 

Laach,  197,  320, 321. 

Lagny,   113. 

Lake  Country,  5. 

Landshut,  322,  328. 

Lanercost,  20,  52,  142. 

Lamp^rez  y  Romea,  Vicente,  40 
sqq.,  48. 

Laon,  38, 108  sqq.,  129, 131, 162, 
163,  172  sqq.,  186,  188;  S. 
Martin,  112,  172,  182;  Tem- 
plars' church,  183,  229;  Bishop 
Gamier,  181. 

Latin-Byzantine  style,  42. 

Lausanne,  Anglican  church,  30. 

Lavoulte-Chilhac,  220. 

Law-Courts,  London,  27,  46,  55. 

lay  vocation,  2;  fraternity,  12, 15- 

LemgO,  320,  326,  328. 

Leon,  42,  44. 

Leonardo,  29. 

Lerida,  43,  44. 

Liberal  Arts,  39,  216. 

Liege,  307. 

Lille,  21,  38,  112,  303. 

Limay,  142. 

Limburg,  318,  323. 

Limoges,  206,  211,  231,  248. 

Lincoln,  31,  129,  172,  189. 

Lincolnshire,  5. 

Lisieux,  118;  S.  Jacques,  119. 

Livi,  Dominic,  of  Ghambasso, 
his  son,  276. 

Lombard  churches,  in  Italy,  317; 
on  the  Rhine,  275,  322. 

Lombardy,  32. 

London,  2,  5,  6,  17,  21,  24,  26, 
27,  54,  67. 


Longpont,  162,  170. 

Lons-le-Bourg,  64,  90. 

Louis  IX,  S.,  170,  206. 

Louis  XI,  216,  217,  225. 

Louviers,  117. 

Lorsh,  317. 

Lubeck,  37,  38;  270,  286,  314, 
319,  324;  Burg-Kloster,  272, 
276,  278,  280;  cathedral,  272; 
S.  Giles,  272,  281;  S.  James. 
272,  281;  S.  Katharine,  272, 
276,  278;  S.  Mary,  275,  321; 
S.  Peter,  272,281;  Burg-Thor, 
271, 272;  Heiligen-Geist-Spital, 
272, 281;  Holsteiner-Thor,  271. 
272,  284;  Rathhaus,  283; 
Bishop  Burchard  von  Ser- 
ken,  273;  Bishop  Johann  von 
Mull,  273;  Bishop  Henry,  272; 
Bishop  Henry  Bockholt,  278; 
Hans  Apengeter,  277. 

Luca  della  Robbia,  85. 

Lucca,  69,  76;  campanile,  70; 
cathedral  69;  S.  Giovanni, 
71;  S.  Maria  della  Rosa,  71; 
S.  Michele,  69. 

Lucera,  50. 

Lucerne,  lake  of,  36. 

Lugo,  44. 

Luneburg,  S.  John,  276,  314, 
324,  328. 

Luther,  275. 

Lynn,  274. 

Lyon,  201,  212;  S.  Martin 
d'Ainay,  207, 228, 247 ;  Manl- 
canterie,  228. 

MUcon,  62,  88. 

Madrid,  43. 

Magdeburg,  318,  319,  321,  324, 

328. 
Maggiore,  lake,  36. 
Magione,  76. 
Mai  lay,    M.,   cited,    218,   228, 

239-41. 


[339] 


Mancha,  La,  42. 

Manresa,  44. 

Mans,  Le,  220. 

Mantes,  131,  134,  137,  139  sqq., 

147,  149. 
Mantua,  284. 
Marburg,  S.  Elizabeth,  38,  169, 

296,   319,    320,     328;    castle, 

302,  327. 
masons,  mediaeval,  32,  240. 
Mayence,  33,  321,  322. 
Meaux,  115,  131,  162,  163,  165. 
mediaeval    architects,   32,   131, 

136,  151,  293,  296,  297. 
mediaeval  workmen,  58, 156, 220, 

222, 225, 234, 240,276, 277, 308^ 
Memling,  274. 
Memoir  by  A.  E.  Street,  6,  10, 

24,  27,  30,  37,  50,  56,  57,  58. 
Menat,  215,  231. 
Merdogne,  228. 
Meredith,  George,  49. 
Merim^e,    Prosper,   cited,   210, 

212,  214,  222,  229,  232,  239. 
Merseburg,  287. 
Metz,  195;  cathedral,  196;  S.Vin- 
cent, 196;   Templars'  church, 

229. 
Middle-Pointed      Churches     in 

Cornwall,  On  the,  268. 
Minden,  277,  326,  328. 
Miranda,  44. 
Modern  Painters,  36. 
Mohammedan,  42. 
Monestier,  220,  230. 
Monistrol,  39,  201,  230. 
Montereau,  Pierre  de,  60,  156. 
Montfaucon,  cited,  223. 
Montierender,  165. 
Montmajour,  229. 
Moorish,  42. 
Morris,  William,  3, 13-17, 21, 31, 

38,  57;  first  abroad,  16;  work 

under  G.  E.  S.,  17. 
Moiitier,  Le,  near  Thiers,  231. 


Moustier-neuf,  Poitiers,  231, 242. 
Mozat,  231,  239. 
Mudejar,  42,  46. 
Muhlhausen,  320. 
Munich,  33,  48,  322,  328. 
Munster,  37,  274,  310,  312,  327; 

cathedral    310,    Oberwasser- 

Kirche,  311;  S.  Lambert,  312; 

S.  Ludger,  313;  Rathaus,  284, 

310. 
Miinster  and  Soest,  303. 
Murray,  34,  41,  49;  guide,  91, 

125. 
Miirren,  30. 

Naples,  53. 

Narbonne,  231. 

National  Gallery,  46,  48,  54. 

Naumburg,  287  sqq.,  299,  318, 

319,  321,  324,  328. 
Naumburg  Cathedral,  287. 
Navarre,  42,  206,  229. 
Neale,  John  Mason,  13. 
Nevers,  35,  39,  201,  231,  241, 

242,  249. 
Newark,  274. 
Newman,  3. 

Norfolk,   5,   45,   128;    middle- 
pointed,  45. 
Normandy,  38, 128, 130,  317. 
Norrey,  120,  121. 
Northampton,  5. 
North  Mymms,  274. 
northern  race,  1,  10. 
notebooks  of  G.  E.  S.,  5,  20,  22, 

32,  34,  38,  50,  53,  96. 
Notes  d'un  Voyage  en  Auvergne, 

210,  214. 
Notes  of  a  Tour  in  Central  Italy, 

59. 
Notes  on  French  Churches,  97. 
Notre  Dame  de  la  Treille,  112. 
Notre  Dame  du  Puy,  206. 
Noyon,  105,  109,  114,  131,  162, 

163,  164  sqq. 


[340] 


Nuremberg,  33,  270,  322,  328; 
S.  Laurence,  273,  312;  S. 
Sebald,  321. 

Odalric,  Abbot  of  Conques,  242. 

Odo  de  Gissey,  cited,  228. 

Oldenburg,  Bishop  Ceroid  of,  272* 

Orcagna,  66. 

Orcival,  231,  238,  240. 

Orders,  Holy,  2. 

Order  of  Sir  Galahad,  15. 

Orense,  42. 

Orleans,  Theodulf,  Bishop  of,  224. 

Or  S.  Michele,  52,  83. 

Orvieto,  51,  73,  91,  92. 

Ourscamp,  162. 

Overbeck,  277,  281. 

Oxford,  2,  13,  14,   18,   57,  58; 

Union,  14;  Merton  college,  15; 

New  college,  15. 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  Magaiine, 

The,  16. 
Oxford  Movement,  7, 13, 14,  31. 

Paderborn,  275,  311,  319,  324, 

327. 
Padua,  224. 
Paestum,  95. 

painting,  early  English,  262, 263. 
painting,  early  French,  39, 126, 

136,  158,  189,  215,  216,   223 

sq.,  227,  234. 
painting,  early  German,  274, 277, 

279,  290,  299,  301,  309. 
painting,  early  Italian,  53, 67,  70, 

74,  78,  91,  94. 
paintings,  by  G.  E.  S.,  4,  8,  37. 
Palencia,  43. 
Palestrina,  9. 
Palladio,  49. 
Pamplona,  44. 
Paris,    16,    33,    61;    American 

church,  28, 30;  Cluny,33, 157; 

Louvre,  33 ;  Notre  Dame,  4, 

33, 116, 131, 134, 137, 141, 149, 


163,    200;   S.  Chapelle,   116, 

156;  S.  Germain-des-Pres,  58, 
156,  231. 
Passion  according  to  S.  Matthew, 

The,  28. 
Pater,  29. 
Pavia,  317,  323. 
Pebrac,  220. 
Pennell,  Joseph,  49. 
Pere  Hyacinth,  95. 
Perigueux,  212,  231,  241,   243, 

245,    246,  248,    249;    Bishop 

Arnaud,  211. 
Perpignan,  43. 
Perugia,  76,  80,  133,  176. 
Perugino,  28,  52,  277. 
photography  in  architecture,  35. 
Picardy,  317. 

Pierre  de  Montereau,  58, 156. 
Pierrefonds,  162. 
Pisa,  66,  76,  77,  272;   style  of, 

85,    93;    baptistery,    66,    84; 

Campo  Santo,  66-7;  cathedral, 

67,  69;   domestic  Gothic,  68; 

Spina  chapel,  71. 
Pisano,  Giovanni,  68. 
Pistoja,  83,  85;   baptistery,  84; 

cathedral,  83;  S.  Bartolomeo, 

84;   S.  Giovanni  Evangellsta, 

84. 
plain-song,  24,  119. 
Poblet.  42,  126. 
Pointed  Architecture  in  Germany, 

317. 
Poitiers,    176;     Moustier-neuf, 

231,    242;    S.    Hilaire,   231, 

236,242;  S.  Radegonde,  231; 

Bishop  Gerald,  211. 
Poitou,  129. 
Polignac,  230. 
Pont  de  I'Arche,  139. 
Porretta,  La,  86. 
Port  Vendres,  44. 
Prague,  48. 
Premontr^,  171. 


[341] 


Pre-Raphaelite  Movement,  13, 
32,  46,  135. 

Priests  in  England,  mediaeval, 
20;  in  France,  modern,  121, 
143,  144,  191. 

Proctor,  Marquita  (Mrs.  G.  E. 
Street),  7,  10,  12,  13,  21,  26, 
38,  45,  51,  57. 

Prynne,  Mr.,  6. 

proportion  in  architecture,  168, 
240,  269. 

Provence,  251. 

Pugin,  A.  W.  N.,  292. 

Pusey,  Edward,  13. 

Pustertal,  36. 

Le  Puy,  39,  201,  202  sqq.,  212, 
221,  246;  cathedral,  205  sqq., 
239;  chapel,  229;  S.  Laurent, 
230,  S.  Michel,  203,  226  sqq., 
247;  paintings,  216;  Bishop 
Evodius,  203;  Bishop  Guy, 
228;  Bishop  Jean  de  Bourbon, 
214-16;  Bishop  Peter,  220; 
Bishop  Stephen,  220;  Fran- 
cois Gimbert,  225. 

Quakers,  11. 

Raphael,  28,  277. 

Ratisbon,  33,  320,  326,  328. 

Ratzebourg,  328. 

Ravello,  51. 

Ravenna,  220,  243. 

Rayham  abbey,  125. 

Recanati,  51, 

religious  feeling,  11,  12,  19,  20, 

21,  24,  49,  54,  114. 
Renaissance,  42,  49,  52,  68,  71, 

73,  76,  95,  187,  216,  307. 
Reni,  Guido,  52. 
restoration,  21,  30,  51,   54,  66, 

121,  129,  140,  191,  208,  255, 

265,  298;  his  own,  30  sq.,  54. 
Rheims,  58,  108,  113,  129,  131, 

162, 163,  184;  cathedral,  113, 


184;  S.  Jacques,  186,  189; 
S.  Maurice,  189;  S.  Remi,  134, 
170, 187;  archbishop's  palace, 
186;  Maison  des  Musiciens, 
190,  308. 

Rhineland,  36,  38,  174,  176,  275, 
317,  318,  322,  323,327. 

ringhiera,  86. 

Riom,  231,  238,  241,  251. 

Ripoll,  42. 

Ripon,  55. 

Robert  de  Coucy,  58, 184. 

Robinson,  H.  Crabbe,  26. 

Romanesque,  42,  45,  67,  70,  88, 
103,  176,  187,  202,  222,  244, 
245,  317,  322. 

Rome,  51,  53,  95;  American 
church,  30;  English  church,  30. 

Rossetti,  14,  16,  46,  57. 

Rouen,  16,  33, 114, 117, 132, 135, 
163,  193,  209,  244;  S.  Ouen, 
117,  173;  Archbishop  Mau- 
rice, 133,  135. 

Royal  Academy,  27,  57. 

Royal  Institute  of  British  Archi- 
tects, 27;  Transactions  of,  27, 
201, 243. 

Royat,  215,  231. 

Ruskin,  36. 

Russia,  32. 

S.  Albans,  54,  274. 

S.  Croix,  Montmajour,  229. 

S.  Denis,  318. 

S.  Georges  de  Boscherville,  134, 

137  sq.,  156. 
S.  Gemignano,  91,  92. 
S.  Genes,  231. 
S.  Germer,  131,  134,  154  sqq.; 

Abbot  Peter  de  Wesencourt, 

156. 
S.  Gervais,  58. 
S.  Gothard,  36. 
S.  James  the  Less,  Westminster, 

28. 


[342] 


S.  Jean  de  Maurienne,  64. 

S.  Leu  d'Esserent,  102,  104, 131, 

141,  146  sqq. 
S.  L6,  124. 
S.  Loup,  124. 

S.  Margaret,  Liverpool,  30. 
S.  Mary,  Stone,  255  sqq. 
S.  M^dard,  170. 
S.  Nectaire,  231,  233,  238. 
S.  Nicodime,  Athens,  249. 
S.  Omer,  abbey  of  S.  Bertin,  99, 

303;  Notre  Dame,  100  sqq., 

137,  303. 
S.  Quentin,  106,  107,  131,  162, 

188. 
S.  Saturnin,  231,  236,  238. 
S.  Sophia,  243,  245. 
Saarburg,  197. 
Saintes,  231. 
Sakraments-Haus,  277,  302,  311, 

316. 
Salamanca,  44. 
Salerno,  51. 

Salisbury,  55,  128.  181,  189. 
San  Sebastian,  44. 
Saragossa,  38,  44,  46. 
Savona,  91. 
Scala,  51. 
Scott,    Gilbert   G.,    5,    28,    31; 

Scott  and  Moffatt,  6,  59. 
Scott,  G.,  54. 
Sedding,  Edmund,  21. 
Seez,  163. 
Segovia,  44. 
Senlis,  102,  sqq.,  108,  116,  131, 

147,  149;    cathedral,  103;  S. 

Frambourg,   104;    S.    Pierre, 

102. 
Sens,  34. 
Shelley,  28,  52. 
shrines,   158,   239,   306;    of   S. 

Taurin  at  Evreux,  116;  of  S. 

Elizabeth  at  Marburg,  300. 
Siena,  11,  51,  71  sqq.,  76,  176; 

Academy,  74;  baptistery,  72; 


campanile,   72 ;   Campo,    72 ; 

cathedral,  73;  hospital,  282. 
Sierck,  197. 
Sierra  Morena,  42. 
Siguenza,  44. 
Soest,  37, 275,  311,  313.  314,  323, 

327;  cathedral,  314;  S.  Paul's. 

315;     S.    Peter's,    312,    315; 

Wiesen-Kirche,  312,  315  sqq., 

320,  322. 
Soissonnais.  38.  162,  169. 
Soissons,    131,    162,    163    sqq., 

188;  cathedral,  164;   S.  Jean 

des    Vignes,    163.    166;     S. 

Leger,  168;  S.  Pierre,  169. 
Some  Account  of  Gothic  Archi- 
tecture in  Spain,  27,  22,  37, 

39,  40,  41  sqq.,  46,  51,  320. 
Some  Account  of  the  Church  of 

S.  Mary,  Stone,   near  Dart- 
ford,  255. 
Some  Churches  in  Kent,  Surrey, 

and  Sussex,  268. 
Some  Churches  of  Le  Puy  en 

Velay,  and  Auvergne,  201. 
du  Sommerard,  cited,  173,  179. 
Soria,  42. 

Southampton,  160. 
Southwell,  54. 
Spain,  41,  42,  43,  47,  48,  118, 

206,  229. 
Spain's  debt  to  G.  E.  S.,  45;  to 

France,  47. 
Spanish  towns,  42, 44 ;  travel,  45. 
Splugen,  36. 
Spoleto,  51. 
square  east  ends,  137,  173,  176, 

265,  320. 
Stephen,  Leslie,  49;   Sir  James 

Fitz-James,  49. 
Stevenson,  39. 
Stone  Church,  255  sqq. 
Strasburg,  33, 162,  318,  326. 
Street,  Arthur  Edmund,  6,  24, 

57. 


[343] 


street,  George  Edmund,  life: 
born,  2;  goes  to  London,  5; 
again,  21;  to  Wantage,  7;  to 
Oxford,  13;  abroad,  21;  to 
Italy,  34;  to  Spain,  41;  mar- 
ried, 13,  57;  died,  27;  buried, 
27,  57.  London,  21,  24,  26; 
competitions,  21,  22,  46,  54; 
controversies,  54  sq.;  commis- 
sions, 6,  7,  21,  22,  27;  appoint- 
ments, 7,  55  ;  honours,  27  ; 
books,  27,  34,  41  sq.,  49  sq.; 
papers,  32,  37,  39,  201, 
268.  His  buildings,  28,  30; 
drawings,  35;  note-books,  34; 
travel,  21,  27,  31,  32;  way 
of  life,  24;  knowledge,  31,  37, 
40  ;  character,  3,  23,  25,  26; 
energy,  3, 8, 9,  23;  enthusiasm, 
13, 25;  wit,  25;  genius,  13, 26, 
35,  41;  religion,  1, 9,  24,  53,  54, 
114;  affections  of  the  hearth, 
9,  12,  57;  friends,  26,  52,  57; 
relation  toother  architects,  10, 
24,  26,  27;  eye  for  landscape 
and  the  picturesque,  36,  62, 
65,  75,  86,  88,  90,  92,  94,  108, 
137,  171,  172,  292,  295,  307, 
313.  Family:  his  father,  2; 
mother,  9;  sister,  6;  brother,  4, 
5,  6;  son,  6,  24,  57;  first  wife, 
7,  38,  45, 124;  second  wife,  10, 
53,  57;  father-in-law,  10,  51. 

Street,  Thomas,  the  elder,  2. 

Street,  Thomas,  the  younger, 
4,  5,  6. 

Suffolk,  128. 

Surrey,  268. 

Susa,  64,  90. 

Sussex,  5,  268. 

Swinburne,  A.  C.  S.,  48. 

Switzerland,  36,  37,  39,  48,  245, 
313. 


Tarrazona,  44. 

Templars,  at  Eunate,  229;  at 
Laon,  183,  229;  at  Metz,  229; 
at  Le  Puy,  229 ;  at  Segovia,  229. 

Thames,  7,  21,  58. 

Theodore,  Brother,  cited,  228. 

Thrasimene,  74. 

Timbered  houses,  118,  119,  154, 
313;  roofs,  118,  160,  246,  305. 

iissus,  220,  224. 

Toledo,  43,  45,  92. 

Torcello,  226. 

Toro,  42. 

Torrington,  5. 

Tortoir,  193. 

Toscanella,  94. 

Toul,  195;  cathedral,  195;  S. 
Gengoult,  195-6. 

Toulouse,  38,  231. 

Touraine,  129. 

Tournai,  175,  305. 

Tournus,  62,  246. 

Tours,  S.  Martin,  244. 

Transactions,  32;  of  the  R.  I. 
B.  A.,  39,  201,  243;  of  the 
Exeter  Architectural  Society, 
268;  of  the  Kent  Archaeologi- 
cal Society,  255. 

tree  of  Jesse,  139,  225. 

Treves,  175,  195,  196,  197,  221. 

tribunes,  165. 

Trinidad,  30. 

Troyes,  34, 131. 

Tudela,  44. 

Turin,  65,  89-90. 

Tuy,  42. 

Tyndall,  49. 

Tyrol,  36,  48. 

Ulm,  33,  327. 
Umbria,  51,  53,  75-81. 
University,  2,  7. 
Urgell,  Seo  de,  43. 


Tarragona,  44. 


Val  d'Aosta,  48. 
[344] 


Val  di  Chiana,  75. 

Valencia,  43,  44. 

Valladolid,  43,  47. 

Van  Eyck,  274. 

Vauclair,  183. 

Vaux-sous-Laon,  183. 

Velay,  le,  39,  201,  202;    Etats 

de,  214;  archives  of,  215. 
Vendome,  148. 
Venice,  133,  194,  224,  248,  289, 

304;  S.  Marco,  4,  27,  212,242 

sq.,  249. 
Verdier,  cited,  161, 184. 
Vergato,  86. 
Verneilh,  cited,  248. 
Verona,  71,  133,  270,  279,  284. 
Vevey,  English  church,  30. 
Vezelay,  35. 
Vienna,  48,  322. 
Vienne,  212. 
village   churches,    22;     French, 

131,  143,  145;    English,  257. 
Viollet-le-Duc,  cited,  144,  150, 

156,  162,  173,  184,  211,  215, 

231. 
Viterbo,  94. 
Vitoria,  43,  44. 
Volvic,  231. 
Vosges,  36. 

Wales,  1. 

Wallenstadt,  lake  of.  36. 
Wantage,  7. 
Warfield,  265. 
Webbe,  the  elder,  13. 
Webbe,  Philip,  21. 


Wellington,  Duke  of,  41. 

Wells,  128. 

Wensley,  274. 

Westminster  Abbey,  27,  32,  58, 
204,  244,  255,  258,  318. 

West  of  England,  4. 

wheel  of  Fortune,  153. 

Wilars  de  Honecort,  184. 

Wilberforce,  Samuel,  13. 

Wimbourne,  279. 

Winchester,  5,  9,  12,  55 ;  font, 
160. 

Worcester,  2. 

Wordsworth,  4. 

workmen,  mediaeval:  masons, 
240 ;  sculptor,  Gaulfredus, 
220,  another  (Robert),  234; 
architects,  Pierre  de  Monte- 
reau,  58,  156;  Robert  de 
Coucy,  58,  184;  metal-work- 
ers, 274,  Hans  Apengeter,  277, 
John  and  Nicholas  of  Bingen, 
222;  silversmith,  225,  Francois 
Gimbert,  234 ;  glass  painter, 
Dominic  Livi,  276. 

Worms,  249,  321,  322. 

Wurtzburg,  33. 

York,  27, 32, 55. 
Yorkshire,  4,  128. 
Ypres,  303  sq.,  311. 

Zamora,  44,  46. 

Zaragoza,  44,  46,  v.  Saragossa. 

Zinzig,  323. 

Zurich,  lake  of,  36. 


[345] 


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